Rise of the Grandmaster

by Bradford Bates

  “It’s brutal on the hair.” ShadowLily leaned back in her chair as relaxed as could be.

  It might have been bravado, or she honestly might not care. Tim hadn’t asked what her level was. For all he knew, she could be level ten and an adventurer already. If she’d made the change, her death wouldn’t matter. She could be resurrected, but it also meant that from this point forward, the only money she’d see from her time in the game was what she made.

  NPC-Corp didn’t offer end-of-contract payouts for adventurers.

  The company preferred people who wanted to stick with the program. That meant working eight hours a day, five days a week, at whatever profession you chose. For Tim, it was back-breaking labor behind the bellows. For others, it could be serving drinks. It didn’t matter what you did as long as you did it for the entire term of your contract.

  That was how you got paid.

  Getting paid was what this was all about. Going back to the real world debt-free was going to be amazing. He didn’t even have to join the Armed Services for free college. All he had to do was work for Ironbeard. Seemed like a fair trade-off. At some point, he might make the leap to being an adventurer, but right now, he liked the security and future his job provided.

  Malvonis rubbed a huge hand over his bald head as he scowled at the half-elf. “Not a problem I’m familiar with.”

  ShadowLily giggled. “I guess not.”

  “I guess not,” the half-orc rumbled. “I guess not.” He said it loud enough to make Tim wince and slapped his giant thigh with a meaty fist. “That’s fucking rich. Isn’t it, Ernie?”

  “Very rich,” the innkeeper replied hastily.

  Malvonis reached inside his vest and pulled out a dagger that might as well have been a sword. He slammed the blade into the solid-wood table, and the point stuck out through the bottom. Tim wondered just how strong you had to be to jam a knife through two inches of wood in one try.

  Note to self: the half-orc is strong as fuck.

  Wrenching his dagger free from the table, Malvonis locked eyes with ShadowLily. “Poking fun at me has serious repercussions.” He pointed the blade at her. “I’d think real careful-like about what you say next.”

  She laughed. Oh, my God, she fucking laughed at him.

  “Or what? You’re going to write me a sad song about how you’re bald?” She pulled out a knife of her own. “Get over it.”

  Rumbling, grating laughter bubbled up from deep inside of Malvonis like a volcano ready to spew. He brayed like a donkey in heat. “Forget what I said. I like her.” He slipped his dagger back inside his vest.

  Ernie rushed in with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies. Malvonis watched the innkeeper take a sip of the liquid before accepting the cup. “So, have you collected what I require?”

  “Not strictly speaking,” Ernie said while wringing his hands.

  “It’s a yes or no question.” Malvonis took a sip of tea and a bite of a cookie before setting them down again. “Yes, you have it, or no, you don’t.”

  “We don’t have it,” Ernie said as his shoulders slumped.

  The smile Malvonis had been wearing disappeared and was replaced by a vacant expression. The very look of man set to do dark work. “Just when I was starting to think you wouldn’t be the most disappointing part of my day.”

  Tim turned his head for a second and almost missed what happened next.

  Malvonis finished speaking and almost seemed to blur. Ernie flew backward like he’d been hit in the gut by a battering ram. Gaston was next to the innkeeper in an instant, his hand coming away red with blood as he plucked a knife free.

  “Why?” Gaston screamed, eyes simmering with rage.

  “I’m not in the business of supporting failures. Ernie had a job to do, and he didn’t fucking do it.” Malvonis stood up and advanced on Gaston. “Now that job falls to you.” The half-orc bent to pick up his knife. He wiped the blade on Ernie’s pant leg and tucked it away as he stood up. “Don’t let me down.”

  Gaston kept his hands pressed against the wound in Ernie’s stomach as Malvonis continued toward the coat rack.

  Things hadn’t gone as expected, not even close. Tim had wanted to talk business. Instead, he’d watched helplessly as a man he thought of as a friend was used for target practice. Tim cast healing orb and flicked the ball at Ernie. He walked toward the brute, hoping that the single application of his spell would be enough to stop the bleeding until he could heal the man properly.

  “Excuse me, sir?” Tim said, taking Malvonis’ cloak from the rack and holding it out for him.

  “Sir? Kid, I’m no knight.” He shrugged into his cloak. “About as far from one as you could get.”

  It took a moment for what the half-orc said to sink in. Tim was still getting used to how the same words could mean completely different things simply based on the time and place you used them.

  “I’d like to buy the inn from you,” Tim blurted, not sure if he’d get another chance to ask before the half-orc disappeared out the door.

  “Not for sale.” Malvonis shuffled toward the door. “Not that this shithole is doing me any favors.”

  “Then it’s a matter of price?” Tim called.

  The half-orc froze in the doorway. “Gold fixes a lot of ills boy, but I’ve also got obligations.”

  “You want something from the dungeon?” Tim watched as the giant turned, wondering if he just crossed a line that he couldn’t come back from.

  Malvonis stalked forward. “What of it?” He looked at Gaston, clearly wondering if he should kill them all.

  “What if I could get whatever it is for you and offered you a reasonable price for the inn?” Tim tried to sound confident, but it was hard to do when the man in front of you could crush your skull like an overripe tomato.

  “I might be persuaded into a bargain if you can get what I want.” He smiled like a Great White about to take a nibble from an unsuspecting swimmer. “There is also the matter of interest on the gold Ernie borrowed from me.”

  It was a wrinkle Tim hadn’t expected, but he’d gone too far to give up now. “Throw his interest into the deal, but I want Ernie and his men free from any further obligations to you.”

  “My, my, I hope you have deep pockets.” Reaching out, he plucked the fabric of Tim’s shirt. “From the looks of it, your ambition far exceeds your station.”

  “And I’m sure everyone you’ve met on your rise to the top told you that you’d be the most feared thief in Promethia one day.” Tim stared defiantly at Malvonis. “Where I get the money and how I acquire the item is my business. It only becomes an issue if I fail to deliver.”

  Malvonis grinned with all the charm of Cheshire cat. “And you’re fine with the price of failure?”

  He didn’t need to say what the price was. Ernie was bleeding out on the floor because he’d failed to get this man what he wanted. Gaston was going to be next. Neither of them could come back if they died, and Tim wasn’t ready to lose them just yet.

  “I won’t fail.” Tim hadn’t failed at anything in the game so far. He’d been close more than once, but this was just another chance to prove himself.

  “I’ve heard that before and said it more than a few times myself.” Malvonis frowned. “You’re asking me to put my reputation on the line, and I don’t know you.” The half-orc considered it for a moment. “Retrieve the dungeon heart and add two hundred gold. Do that, and the inn and its men are yours.”

  Tim balked at the number but remembered something. This was just a game, and everything was open to negotiation. “Seventy-five gold and the dungeon heart.” He wasn’t going to let this dick make him beg while he tried to rob him blind.

  “A hundred gold.” Malvonis waved away the amount as if it were trivial. “And the item.” Looking down at Tim with a smug expression, Malvonis extended his hand. “The choice is yours.”

  Tim looked up at those tusks, hoping that he never felt them ripping into his flesh. “I’ll need a week.”

  “Th
ree days.” Malvonis tilted his hand back and forth, trying to prompt Tim into action.

  “I need a week.” Tim took the man’s giant hand in his own and gave it a firm shake.

  “Deal.” Malvonis turned to open the front door to the inn. “See you in seven days, kid.” He stepped into the rain and pulled up the hood of his cloak before heading up the road.

  Tim yanked the door shut and hurried to Ernie’s side. The innkeeper reached up, clasping his hands. “What did you just do?”

  “I think I just gave us a future.” Tim pulled his hand free and went to work. The damage was worse than he thought, but Ernie was going to make it.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Ding, ding, ding.

  “Giving him a bell was a fucking mistake,” Gaston snarled at Tim as he stood up from the table.

  “How else are we supposed to know if he needs anything?” Tim replied with a chuckle.

  “Any half-assed healer would have made sure he didn’t need the bell in the first place.” Gaston slammed the door as he left the room.

  Tim turned to ShadowLily and shrugged. “He’s obviously never tried to heal anyone who basically had a knife thrown through him like a bullet.”

  “Don’t be dramatic.” ShadowLily smiled as she spun a throwing knife on one finger. “He didn’t throw the knife through Ernie.”

  “Only because it bounced off his ribs.” No one understood how hard healing was. It wasn’t like the bones and organs just fixed themselves because he had magic. Tim had to put some serious thought into getting the best results.

  To be fair, the bones kind of did fix themselves, but his spells did seem to work better if he put some thought behind them.

  ShadowLily tucked her throwing knife away and plucked one of her daggers free. With a scream, she slammed it onto the tabletop. The dagger didn’t even make a big enough dent to stick in the tabletop. She looked at her dagger and then under the table before turning back toward Tim. “Malvonis must have rigged the table.”

  “Or he’s just that strong.” Tim sat next to her, pushing the dagger back across the table. “And he’s fast. I didn’t even see him move before Ernie was flying across the room like some kind of Jedi mind trick.”

  “It’s no wonder they’re all so afraid of him.” ShadowLily put her dagger away. “Kind of makes me question your sanity.”

  Tim wasn’t expecting that response. Outside of having to get to the dungeon and beat it, things had gone pretty much to plan. “Well, I was kind of hoping you could help me with something?”

  “If you’re asking for money, I don’t have nearly enough.” She frowned. “You’re not asking for money, are you?”

  Tim smiled. He’d never even considered asking her for money. It was kind of a personal pride thing for him. Never spend outside of your means and be happy with what you have or work harder to get something new and shiny. All it ever took to give him a solid reality check was to see someone struggling with even less.

  If they could make do, so could he.

  “I’ve got the gold covered.” Tim took a sip from his drink. “It’s the dungeon I’m worried about.”

  “You’ve got the gold covered?” She looked at Tim like she’d never seen him before. “Mind telling me how, Daddy Warbucks?”

  “I recently came into a little money.” Tim wasn’t sure how much to tell her just yet. He knew he could trust her. Shit, his heart was already calling for him to bend the knee, but he also had to be careful. Tim had seen more than one relationship fail when it came to money.

  “A hundred gold isn’t a little bit of money. I have ten gold, and I could maybe round up another five if I called in every favor someone owed me. You’re talking about giving away a hundred gold like it’s nothing.”

  It wasn’t nothing, and he wasn’t giving it away. Tim had a vision of the future, and the inn was the first step.

  “It’s an investment.” He knew that wasn’t the answer she was looking for, so he stumbled on. “I helped the temple recover some relics, and the reward was more than I expected.”

  ShadowLily watched him as she tried to make sense of everything he just said. “So, you completed some unique quest, and landed a major windfall.” She was smiling. “That’s awesome. I hope there are more quests like that scattered throughout the game.”

  “I get the feeling there will be.” Tim couldn’t help but smile back at her. She didn’t even ask how much he made from the quest. This was a woman he needed to keep around as long as possible.

  “But you said you wanted this place for an investment? I just don’t get it. Sure, Ernie and Gaston are awesome, but this place is in the slums. You could do so much better.”

  “Yeah, but what if the slums weren’t as slummy?” Tim thought about what it would mean for people if he just cobbled the streets. It’d make it easier to travel, and if you had to enter the city proper, you wouldn’t be covered in mud.

  If he really wanted to make this work, he might have to invest in some of the other properties. The last thing he wanted was to make the slums shine so someone could come in and force these people out. Maybe his scheme was going to be more complicated than he thought.

  “So, you’re going to gentrify the slums?”

  “Kind of.” Tim thought about what he wanted to accomplish and how he wanted to do it. “Except I don’t want to raise the value and force people out. I want the same people who are working their asses off to be the ones reaping the benefits.”

  “To make the slums really thrive, you’re going to need a trading kiosk.” ShadowLily looked a little crestfallen. “And I’ve only seen those in the market.”

  “A problem for another day. Right now, we’ve got more important things to work on.”

  “Yeah, like how we are going to get to the dungeon when Gaston couldn’t?”

  “That’s where my favor comes in. I was hoping you knew someone who decided to be a tank.”

  ShadowLily’s face went kind of slack, and Tim realized she must have gone into her menu to look for someone. He took a moment to open his own interface. He had a few stat points to allocate. Right now his stats looked good, but they would change, based on whatever weapons and armor he equipped. For now, he was satisfied wearing his assassin's gear, but he knew eventually he’d have to make a choice.

  Strength 12

  Endurance 12

  Dexterity 16

  Intelligence 15

  Wisdom 20

  With his staff equipped, Tim’s intelligence would go up by one, and his wisdom by two. He’d also lose the plus-two to his dexterity stat when he unequipped his daggers. At the moment, his ability to fight seemed more important than his healing, so placing the points into dexterity might be the way to go.

  There was no way to know how valuable stat points would be in the long run, but over time, dedicating them to a single stat might give you a benefit over someone who diversified. How big that benefit would be was anybody’s guess.

  With the quest he had in front of him, the smart money was on sticking them in dexterity, but they might have a tank joining them. Whoever that poor bastard was, he wasn’t going to be happy getting hit and not getting healed effectively. I can’t risk losing the tank, by being ineffective.

  He looked at his stats again and allocated his three skill points. Tim let the choice marinate for a moment and hit the confirm button. Not too shabby.

  Checking the rest of his stat sheet, Tim noticed that his secondary stats had also received a boost.

  Perception 4

  Vitality 3

  Revitalization 3

  Luck 3

  Maybe every few levels or so, you were just given points? Or maybe it was how you played your character. The vitality bonus could have come from his work with Ironbeard and the revitalization bonus from casting. The increases to luck and perception might have happened with his recent conversations.

  One thing Tim was certain of, he was going to have to pay a little more attention to his stat sheet.
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br />   Tim dismissed the stats and glanced across the table at ShadowLily. It looked like she had news, but maybe not the best. “What’s up?”

  “I found a tank.” ShadowLily smiled weakly across the table. “She’s not exactly traditional.”

  “’She?’” Tim asked before he even thought about it. There was no reason a woman couldn’t play a video game as well as a man or better. In this world, everyone’s stats meant the same thing. Being taller or bulkier might give you an advantage in looks, but when it came to gameplay, it didn’t mean all that much.

  Maybe it was okay that he reshaped his vision of a massive hunk of metal just soaking in the damage. Instead, it might be a woman holding up a shield big enough to protect her whole body. Tim didn’t care how they looked or what gear they chose. He only cared if their tank was effective.

  “I know it’s a little different.” ShadowLily almost seemed apologetic.

  Tim held up his hand to stop her. There was no reason to apologize. There was nothing wrong with being different as long as you were good. Sometimes it was fun to challenge people’s perceptions. Tim had decided long ago that you should never feel bad about who you are. Life was much more fun when you embraced your quirks. If anything, being inside The Etheric Coast gave them all a clean slate to be whoever they wanted.

  “My question should have been, is she good?” Tim waited for ShadowLily’s response. His entire plan would rise and fall on how good a tank their newest addition was.

  “Cassie can hold her own.” ShadowLily smiled. “It’s not her ability to be badass I’m worried about. It’s the way she’s choosing to go about it.”

  Tim made a “come on, give me the bad news” gesture.

  “Cassie is an avoidance tank.” She sat back, looking worried after spitting out the dreaded word “avoidance.”

  “Isn’t the whole point of a tank to stand there and soak up the damage so the DPS can do their thing?” Tim was starting to get worried now.