The journey to the venue was slow but eventful. As they traveled they chatted among themselves. Mark found that George was doing well and had taken to leading the crafting team. Already he had been subsidizing their ammo reserves and general maintenance. Apparently, the real fun was when he got time to work on his passion projects, he had been experimenting with pushing his techniques forward and seen explosive growth. The level of his items were still low, but it was growing with each day.
Cara seemed much happier than when they had first gotten here. Mark had seen her practicing around the building and her spatial magic was coming along nicely. She also had a lot more time to go to the classes they had bought for her. All in all, she seemed more driven to achieve something.
She walked hand in hand with Sam, making sure to stand between her and Chloe.
Donny was the biggest change of all, he looked both mentally and physically stronger. Much of his old easygoing personality had recovered after that whole ordeal. When Mark struck up a conversation with the guy, they fell into comfortable banter. So much so, that Mark almost forgot that the Donny in front of him was a changed man…almost.
He had joined their fighting force and was looking to take on more responsibility in the chain of command. Donny was driven and regardless of what had happened before this, he was a strong Aura user. He’d been trying to get his Aura under control but was having trouble. Something was blocking him from progressing.
Unfortunately, this was not an area Mark had any experience in, fortunately, they had an expert right next to them.
Jonathan listened to Donny’s description of what was happening and then asked a whole lot of strange questions.
Things like, how big the space around him felt, if he had already exhibited Aura fluctuations, or if the taste of the air around him had changed.
“Okay, I think I see now. You’re having trouble manifesting your Aura because of internal conflict. To use Aura there can be no doubts in your mind. You’ve recently experienced something life-altering… The short of it is, give yourself time to heal and then try again. Whatever Aura embodiment comes out after this will be altered by those experiences.”
Donny didn’t look happy with Jonathan's diagnosis but begrudgingly accepted it. He didn’t seem to dwell on it for long either, instead choosing to change the subject to something else. The topic moved to how they had handled the large group that morning, and Jonathan agreed, saying he would have done the same thing. However, they would have to keep an ear to the ground for future problems regarding the nearby factions.
Soon enough they got to the venue, which turned out to be right next to the New York Stock Exchange. They were once more asked to stow their weapons, which they did, Mark sending his staff into his inventory. The event was public, however, Mark’s first scan of the place revealed the frankly massive number of Soldiers and Guild fighters who monitored the whole location. Mark realized why such a force was necessary the moment they entered through the front door.
The event was very similar to an open convention, with an air of opulence. Stalls were set up in the hall, where crafters were explaining the benefits of their wares. As they passed them, they quickly got a sense of how things worked.
Tonight was all about mass-produced products and kitting out people's faction members. Small crafting teams sold batches of the same product in large numbers, the minimum sale being fifty items. An example of one such item was a copper bracelet that offered 2 Aura and 15 Resistance. Individually, it was not a very impressive item, but when stacked together with other such items, it would raise the overall strength of a faction's fighting force. Groups of equal strength could widen the gap between one another with these items.
From the little they had seen so far, there was nothing of any real strength here. These things were so simple that George could probably make something similar with ease. The impressive part was the sheer quantity of items available, but after some thought that made sense too. The items were probably really cheap to produce and with the city being walled off as it was, thousands of people were searching for a way to earn Sp. If one did not want to fight, crafting items became a way to improve without putting oneself in danger, and if there was one thing that humans were good at, it was mass production. Generalists were quickly pulling ahead in all of these fields.
They had barely taken a short look around when Jonathan spotted Mr. Xiaolan and Ning Mei walking in.
They changed course to meet the father-daughter pair, who were seemly glad to see them. Mr. Xiaolan was the first to talk.
“I’m so glad you could all make it. Quite a few factions here tonight, I can practically smell the deals we could make. Has anything caught your eye as of yet?”
Jonathan was the picture of confidence.
“Quiet a few things Mr. Xiaolan and we have only just arrived ourselves. I’m looking forward to seeing what the Guild has to offer.”
Mr. Xiaolan seemed to agree.
“Excellent. Now, if I were you I’d use this opportunity to make some allies while you are here. Speaking of which, I have to go and meet with a couple of old associates. If you all wouldn’t mind keeping my daughter company I’d be deeply grateful”
Jonathan put his hand over his armored chest and made a shallow bow.
“We would be happy to Mr. Xiaolan, Ning Wei fits right in.”
Mr. Xiaolan laughed happily at this and waved goodbye to them, moving deeper into the building.
With that, they wandered the walkways looking at the items on offer. Every stall held a new array of mysteries for George and Jonathan to pick at.
Strangely enough, the crafters behind the counters didn’t mind their countless prying questions, In fact, they only seemed too happy to exchange information.
Mark had learned on the way over here that Jonathan had found a thread online where people traded their findings on crafting. What made it different from spellwork was how people went about it. The method of creation could range widely from person to person, some ‘recipes’ –as Jonathan was calling them– were so filled with unnecessary steps that it was hard to tell what actually worked and what didn’t.
For example, slapping a freshly forged blade with a palm leaf three times may not seem relevant, but the crafter of the recipe insisted it didn’t work without this step.
Like with anything, the internet could give them direction but real-world experience was much more potent.
George and Jonathan moved from table to table chatting as they went. The two were like kids in a candy store and only gave the barest hint of recognition when the rest of the group eventually broke off from them to grab drinks.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Mark was sipping at an ice-cold Coke when he saw the man who acted as Lisa’s assistant pass them by. He was alone this time but he moved with purpose.
Ning Mei saw Mark follow the man with his eyes.
“What is your faction’s relationship with Nathan Moore?”
Mark looked at her, finally putting a name to the face.
“Nothing really, I just happen to have met him a couple of times now. Why do you ask?”
Ning Mei worriedly stared after the man as he disappeared into the mass of bodies.
“He’s one of NAS’s pillars and while there is no proof, many unsavory rumors surround that man. Word is he acts as their ‘cleaner’ not that anyone would ever know. He uses Rot magic or something of the like, if there was any evidence, it never turns up.”
Nathan Moore suddenly became a lot more interesting to Mark. He had noticed the guy never seemed to leave Lisa’s side, so he had thought their relationship was one of subordinate and superior, but if they were both leads, perhaps that's what they wanted people to think.
Mark was just coming to terms with this when there was a disturbance in the direction Nathan had disappeared in, people were gathering nearby.
Mark looked at Ning Mei, and they both got up and went toward the shouting. Sam and Daphne were close behind, followed by everyone else.
When they got to the area, there was no Nathan in sight.
Instead, a tall Aura user was currently shouting down at a lavishly dressed man, who gave off waves of delicate Mana. “Your Inscriptions were useless! I paid an arm and a leg for them and you can’t even keep them charged up! Ten of my men are dead because of your defective product!”
The man just stood there scowling at the Aura user as if he were a screaming child.
The Aura user, seemingly had enough clenched his fist and swung wide. While Mark could see Soldiers were already converging on the pair, they wouldn't make it before the guy got a punch off. The man who was about to get his teeth knocked out, looked as if he couldn’t believe the Aura user were attacking him, and instead of defending himself, he just cowered.
To Mark, this looked like a bit of just deserts. The man had clearly sold the guy something faulty, and now he was looking for justice. If that were all, Mark would not have reacted. This disgruntled exchange had nothing to do with him. The problem was, the guy was not holding back, in his rage, he was putting his full enhanced strength behind his fist. If it connected, there would be casualties.
Mark moved his Mana and a construct interposed itself between them. The Aura user’s fist connected with the hastily erected pane of force, which shook but held.
The man who threw the punch had enough time to grunt in surprise before he was tackled to the ground by Guards. He didn’t fight them, clearly realizing where he was, and what he had almost done.
Waking up he shouted as he was dragged away.
“Wait! No, listen to me. This isn't over, you are a murderer Rupert. You hear me? I’m laying their deaths at your feet!”
The man named Rupert dusted himself off and sneered at the man's retreating form.
“Get out of here you ungrateful sod!”
When people saw there was no more violence to be had most lost interest. Whatever the two had been talking about before had caused people to give the man's stall a wide birth.
Rupert’s booth was by far the most impressive looking out of the lot. While he manned it alone it was three times the size of other’s booths. Several symbols sat inert on the stand, along with pamphlets and order sheets. Every effort had been made to ensure their stall stood a cut above the rest.
Glancing up, Rupert looked at their group and frowned.
“I suppose it was one of you that assisted me back there? If you are looking for freebies then don’t bother. The cost of our art is non-negotiable”
Mark stared at the older man with a dry look.
“While I am interested in Inscription, that was not the reason I acted, but clearly you’re fine, so we’ll get out of your hair.”
Mark turned to leave, but the man seemed to realize that no one else was approaching, and so he called after them.
“Wait, please… I am… grateful for the assistance. The scare from earlier must have shot my nerves. Forgive me, how about I explain what it is I have to offer?”
Mark stopped and turned back, watching the man.
He wanted to know more about Inscription but this guy rubbed Mark the wrong way. Indicating for him to go on, Mark waited to see what he had to say.
Rupert looked smug and launched into a well-prepared sales pitch.
“Right, do you know what Inscription is? Of course, you don’t! Inscription is the language of the system or perhaps the universe. By studying the system’s items we are able to build up an alphabet. Obviously, our knowledge still has a ways to go, but we have managed to create a couple of scripts that work fairly well. I myself had a hand in the creation of the containment scripts used in the ‘walls’ holding cells.”
Rupert looked very proud of this fact.
Nodding Mark said.
“I’ve seen them, they’re very interesting, what other options do you have?”
This seemed to throw Rupert off.
“Ah, well the containment script is our most popular item, but we do have others. For example, we have found a way to safely change the environment in a preselected space. Or set up an early warning system that can go off at a particular time of day.”
Sam did not look impressed.
“So… An air conditioner and an alarm clock…”
Rupert bristled and looked over angrily at her.
“We are still gathering pieces of the alphabet, testing items can get expensive, and it’s not easy. Unlike English, we theorize this system to have over nine thousand interchangeable characters. Each one with its own noble interpretation and interactions. We are just beginning to grasp the depth of our craft-”
Sam interrupted him once more.
“And I heard they need to be charged, with what? Mana?”
Rupert almost seemed aghast that she would interrupt him like that.
“...How we charge the Inscriptions is patented information, but it does need regular upkeep by us, yes”
The more the man spoke the clearer the picture was becoming.
Then Mark asked a question that had been on his mind for a while.
“Why haven't I seen any of this online, the first time we came across Inscriptions was when we arrived in the city. If the language is as complex as you say, then wouldn’t it benefit from people helping to decipher it?”
Rupert's eyes widened in horror and he finally looked like he was at the end of his rope.
“I would bloody-well hope not, we go through great effort to make sure all of our proprietary information is kept well within our ranks. Our alliance would never allow such blatant disrespect to our craft. Why in the hell would we just give away our discoveries, our livelihood, like that without compensation?”
Mark had had about enough. He could understand if this alliance was decades old and well-renowned, but their arrogance did not match their achievements. They’d been around for what, a week? They amounted to one useful Inscription, granted it was a godsend in the situation, but still. If they wanted to keep their knowledge a secret then fine, but they were actively limiting everyone else?
He didn’t regret saving Rupert, he only wished the big guy had controlled his emotions more so Mark didn’t have to step in.
Rupert looked like he was about to continue spouting nonsense when Mark asked his last question.
“Does this alliance run the classes at the Institute?”
Surprised, but happy the discussion was more on topic Rupert nodded.
“Yes, it is purely theoretical knowledge. No translations are provided. However, we allow our students to bring in items so they can help further our cause, if we discover something new from the item, we will share that knowledge with them alone.”
Mark nodded
“I’ve heard everything I need to. Thanks for your time, we’ll be taking our leave”
Rupert looked bewildered as they walked away.
Mark could tell right away, he wanted nothing to do with their alliance. He had a better impression of the faith district, at least some of them were willing to help. These people had a completely different outlook on sharing information. Mark believed that they couldn’t afford to withhold information from one another and Rupert, along with his fellow Insriptionists just wanted to horde knowledge. Mark obviously could not force them to give up the information, nor would he.
It just meant they would make it almost impossible to learn from them without joining the faction, or alliance, or whatever they wanted to call it. At least he now knew why the classes were so expensive, they were milking people for all they were worth.
While Rupert had been wholly unhelpful it wasn’t like he had learned nothing. The first step was right in front of him, or in this case in his inventory.