The Retired S Ranked Adventurer (The Shatterfist Book 1)

by Wolfe Locke

"I know," Maggie said. "I believed you when you said you were from Rat Cobbles."

  A question dawned on Sven. "How did you make it out of the city so fast? If I remember correctly, you worked with the flower bosses, right? Don’t they just keep giving you more flowers to sell and keep in debt working for them as long as they can. Until the day you die, if they can swing it. What do they call it? A pyramid scheme."

  She shifted uncomfortably. "It was good being my own boss, at least of my little section. Right now, I’m still technically working for him. I just convinced him that I could make more money adventuring. I showed him the coins I got from you as proof. A little lie that went a long way. But now I owe half my earnings to him until I pay off my debt."

  Sven grimaced. Some things never change. The flower bosses weren’t the worst of the worst, but they were still crooks. They scooped up young people from the streets and sold them on pretty stories of all the gold they could earn selling flowers. For the first few weeks of a flower seller’s career, they were given the best assignments, best locations, and showered with praise and free bowls of stew.

  For some kids, those would be the first hot meals they’d had in years. Then, once they were good and reeled in, the other shoe dropped. The catch. Some young kid find out the hard way, they were charged for the flowers they took out to sell, and for every flower that rotted unsold on the street—even if it was rotten to begin with.

  They were shuffled to less lucrative assignments where it was unlikely they would be able to sell a full basket anymore. The goal was to keep them vulnerable, in debt, and working hard for whichever flower boss was financing them. When they got too old to be cute anymore, they were discarded, and their debt sold to somebody much worse.

  "You’re more likely to pay it off as an adventurer than as a flower seller," Sven said. "But you could always skip town and refuse to pay."

  She shook her head. "I can’t. My sister’s still here. If I run, they’ll take her in my place. I don’t want her to have the life I’ve had so far. She needs to stay in school and off the streets. She’s the family’s only ticket out of the Woodward long term. She intends to be a healer."

  "I wouldn’t be so sure of that," Sven said, smiling gently at Maggie. "The ‘only’ part, I mean. I’m sure she’ll be all right. But you showed potential in Infinite Sorrow. You might do well for yourself as an adventurer."

  "I embarrassed myself!" the flower girl said looking down. "I could barely hit any reapers at all."

  "You had no business being in that dungeon at your skill level. Had you ever worked with a bow before? You could be great, but you need training."

  "I don’t have time for training!" Maggie said. "And I don’t have the money for the training anyways. I have to keep running dungeons so I can pay off my debt."

  Sven understood. He remembered what it was like to need money.

  "Well, I’m starting a training program here at the bar," he said. "If you’re ever interested. I think you have a lot of potential. It’s sponsored by the Adventurer’s Guild, but I get a few free slots to choose who else can attend. Think of it as a scholarship, or even a work internship."

  Maggie nodded. "Thanks, Sven. I’ll think about it. I really will."

  She took a sip of her ale, and Sven wiped down the bar. He sensed that she had something else she wanted to say.

  "I also wanted to thank you," she said finally. "For all your help in the dungeon. I could tell someone was following us. And after what you said in the tavern the night before, I knew it had to be you."

  "Glad you could see it," Sven said. "The rest of the party didn’t seem to notice. You need to be more careful. I won’t be around every time. Any one of the reapers could have killed you. I should have revealed myself earlier and guided you through it rather than clearing the way."

  Maggie grimaced. "Yeah, glad you didn’t. That wouldn’t have gone over well. You know how rich kids are. But they’re the only ones who’ll take on someone with no money, no gear and no skills. I think they see me as a charity case."

  "Don’t let them get to you." Sven said, remembering his own similar experiences. "You’re bound for bigger places than what they’re limited to."

  "We’re going to do another run on Infinite Sorrow next week. If you wanted to come again. I know the big-time adventurers like you enjoy that dungeon." She suddenly announced.

  Sven buried his head in his hands. "No! Why? Did you learn nothing from the last time you tried this?!" You will die, and I won’t follow you back in."

  "The elf wants to, his brother is willing to pay twice the bet of the first run if we can do it again," Maggie shrugged. "Our group mostly just does what he says."

  "I cannot stress this enough. Do not run that dungeon by yourselves. You will be killed. No questions about it. You’re only a C-Ranker, if not less, and that’s an A-Rank dungeon." Sven responded.

  "Thanks for the advice, Sven," she said, her face growing hard. "But it’s a little out of my hands. I need to stay with this party to pay off my debt."

  Sven sighed. "I’ve told you what I think. You’re going to do what you’re going to do. But I can’t help you again, I’m sorry." But I will go and have a talk with this boss, and if I have to buy your debt myself. I will.

  "I thought you’d say that. But I told them I’d ask. Anyways, I have a surprise for you. As thanks for the help the last time." She said, suddenly cheery.

  Sven was touched. "A surprise?"

  "Yeah! I asked the guards in the city what they thought you’d like. They suggested honey mead. We all pooled our money and got you a whole crate!"

  "Really?" Sven said, he’d only half a bottle left from the last crate.

  "Sure did!" Maggie said. "It’s outside on the porch. And you’re really well-known in the city now, Sven. Word has got out among the city guards about you. The adventurer who didn’t price gouge them."

  He laughed. "I mean, I helped them out once, but they should have already known me. Not many S-Rankers are around anymore or so I’ve heard." Sven said, and she smiled awkwardly in response, not sure what do say.

  Sven picked up on it and quietly asked, "Have you heard of me?"

  She got quiet for a moment, "I’ve heard of a Sven. A few times when I was a girl. My mother would tell me stories of the great heroes who went off and never returned from their fight with the Demon Lord Mammon. But that was a long time ago. Anyways, I’m off," she said, draining her ale. "

  On her way out, she turned her head and gave him a look and called out "But I’ll consider what you said. Seriously." Underneath her breath adding, "But probably not. Hard to pull money out of a bank that doesn't exist anymore."

  From a windows upstairs, Ash scowled as she watched the girl walk away.

  Chapter 24: Lemon Harbor

  After the flower girl was gone, Sven walked out onto the porch and looked around. Just as she had said, a wooden crate of honey mead was sitting there waiting for him. Six golden bottles were nestled inside it. A few more for my collection.

  "Lloyd," he called out to the bartender holding out a bottle with a smile. "What do you say we close up a little early today?"

  Three and a half bottles of honey mead later, they were nestled in a pair of floral armchairs in front of a roaring fire.

  "And another thing," Sven said, his words starting to slur. "What’s your deal, Lloyd? Wow, that fire’s big. I mean hot! But anyway, what’s your deal?"

  "What do you mean?" Lloyd said with an amused smile, still nursing his second drink.

  "Where are you from? How old are you? Do you have any brothers and sisters?"

  "I’m from here," Lloyd said solemnly. "At least my mother was from here. But my father’s family was Lemon Harbor. I haven’t seen my remaining family in a very long time."

  "Lemon Harbor!" Sven said. "Back when I worked on a schooner, we used to buy those little lime cakes they’d sell in those wicker baskets to sailors."

  "Sometimes. That was… my I was just a boy. My father lov
ed them. My mother would make them whenever he returned from fishing in the bay. He loved her, but he’d always tell me with a nod and wink that she didn’t make them quite right. I miss that back and forth between them." Lloyd sighed and gave a weak smile. "You know how it is, getting older."

  "Yes, I do. I’ve only a few brothers left alive and I haven’t seen them in decades." Sven responded. "Anyways, it would be nice if we could sell some of those lemon cakes here, though."

  "No Sven." Lloyd said. "I don’t like them. Let’s leave it at that."

  Someone coughed behind them, and Sven spun around in his chair. Six wide-eyed kids stood in the tavern.

  Oh. Yes. Those. He’d forgotten that Galen was sending the first trainees over.

  "M-mister Shatterfist," a pig-headed orc stammered. "We’re here for the training program sponsored by the Adventurer’s Guild. A-are we in the right place?"

  "Hey, fresh blood!" Sven said brightly. "You sure are! Welcome to The Adventurer’s Rest! And it’s Mister Shatterfist the S-Ranked Adventurer."

  He stood up and took a wobbly bow. The young adventurers recoiled. "Apologies. I wasn’t expecting you this soon." The trainees looked at each other through side eyes as if to say, is this really happening? What did we sign up for?

  "You ready to start your training?" Sven said. "Let’s go outside in the yard and start!"

  They all looked at each other.

  "P-pardon," the orc said again. But the Guildmaster said we’d start tomorrow. Tonight’s for settling in, right? And we can get some good rest and start in the morning?"

  "Nope! Galen doesn’t run this program. I do." Sven said. "Come on! We start now!"

  He staggered toward the door, then turned back when he realized none of them were following. All six were still clustered together by the fire, looking baffled.

  "Don’t you want to learn? What’s wrong with you? I’ll teach you some—" He gestured wildly with his hands. "—really powerful moves."

  The young adventurers looked back at him blankly.

  "Okay," a gray-scaled lizardman said. "I’ll come. I want to learn some powerful moves."

  "Yeah," agreed an elf knight, stepping forward. "What are we doing?

  The others shuffled toward Sven uneasily, following their new leaders. Sven grinned lazily. He felt great.

  The Guild had cleared a large area behind the inn to be used as a practice ring, and Sven led the trainees there, weaving a little from side to side.

  "Look!" he said. "This is for all of you. You’ll bunk in the outbuilding there. Two to a room. And we’ll train every day! Except Sundays. Sundays are off."

  He squinted at the trainees uncertainly. "Why’re you all carrying luggage?"

  "Because we haven’t been able to go to our rooms yet," the orc said patiently. "If you’ll let us go now we can start in the morning and—"

  "No!" Sven bellowed. "Now! Midnight session! Isn’t that fun?"

  Cowed, the orc nodded and backed away.

  "Okay," Sven said. "Okay. I’m going to show you a crazy move. You’ve just got to watch and copy me. Follow my lead. Okay?"

  He hiccupped and took a fighting stance. The trainees blinked, then set down their bags and copied him.

  "Wait," Sven said. "Grab a sword. Make it a good one."

  He staggered over to the Guild-provided sword rack and picked up a practice sword, then resumed his stance, not bothering to see if the others would do the same. They either would or they wouldn’t.

  "Okay, so we’re going to do one I made up tonight. What we’re going to do is take this sword and reach into the ether, grab some power, turn the sword into a rod of pure energy, teleport across the training grounds and destroy our enemy. Our enemy is, uh, that scarecrow over there. The ugly one with the ugly face."

  "I don’t know how to do any of that!" the lizardman said, sounding panicked.

  "Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out. Okay, go!"

  Sven closed his eyes, trying to ignore the feeling of the ground swaying beneath him. He reached out with his mind, grabbing a lasso of power, and directed it into the broadsword in his hand. Opening his eyes, he smiled to see the sword glowing with a blinding white light.

  "Energy rod, check! Now all we got to do is teleport. Three, two, one, go!"

  Teleporting always made him nauseous, even without a stomach full of honey mead, and he tried not to vomit as he blinked out of existence on one side of the practice ring and reappeared on the other. The scarecrow’s scowling expression annoyed him, so he gave its head a slash with his sword.

  "Whoa!" he said and jumped back as the entire scarecrow exploded and caught on fire. "Too much energy!"

  "That was incredible!" the orc shouted, and Sven jumped. It was right next to him—it hadn’t managed to turn its sword into pure energy, but it had managed to teleport. The other trainees were still stuck across the training grounds, trying and failing to channel magic into their weapons.

  "Hey, nice work, orc-y," Sven said. "You killed it. What’s your name?"

  "Rogdul," the orc said proudly. "That spell was amazing! I want to learn to do the rest of it!"

  "You will, kid. You will. Okay, that was your lesson. Oh boy, I’m tired."

  The sawdust floor of the practice arena suddenly looked very soft and inviting. Sven deactivated his energy sword and sat down. The pieces of the scarecrow were still smoldering, but they seemed unlikely to cause a fire.

  "Hey!" Sven shouted to the trainees. "We’re done here! Congratulations! Welcome to Adventurer Training! Everybody go to bed!"

  They looked back at him, confused, then resumed trying to make Sven’s spell work.

  "You hear me?" he yelled. "Go to bed!"

  They didn’t respond, and Sven gave up. He lay back and closed his eyes. He just had to rest a little bit. Then he’d get up and go back to his rooms. He’d make sure the kids got settled in safe, too. Just…had to rest…for a minute…

  Chapter 25: I Cast Cleanse

  Galen let himself into the building. The guild master was smiling after seeing Sven passed out in a pile of hay, snoring. He shook his head good-naturedly and muttered, “I missed you, old friend. I just have doubts.”

  Though he was snoring loudly, Galen didn’t want to wake Sven up. He crept silently across the room and undid the latch that led into the basement. Ash and Lloyd were there waiting for him.

  He shut the door behind him, careful to make sure he wasn’t followed. Lloyd grabbed another torch and lit it up so they could all see each other better amidst the casks of ale. Galen nodded at them in acknowledgment.

  “How is he doing?” Ash asked, motioning upwards towards where Sven lay unconscious.

  “Sleeping blissfully, I’m sure.” Galen answered. “We need to figure out how they were going to handle this situation.”

  “Agreed,” The other two replied.

  “So… what do we know?” Lloyd asked, wanting to put all the information out there. “I’ve talked to him at length over the last couple of months since he appeared, and I’m not sure what to make of it.”

  “Theres nothing to make of it. He’s Sven. The real Sven.” Ash answered with a hardness to her voice. “Any doubt I might have had was erased in the Dungeon of Infinite Sorrow. He basically cleared it by himself and the old Void Wraith that commands that place recognized him. That’s all the proof I needed.”

  Galen furrowed his brow as if he was deep in thought. “Well, what do you think, Lloyd? You’ve had more experience with him too”

  Lloyd measured his response carefully. “Ive been able to verify some of what he’s claimed. As an S-Ranked alchemist there’s little, I can’t make. Earlier this year I prepared a Wolfsbane ale to test his claim of being an S-Ranker. If he’d been any lower than A-Rank, he’d have died for it. If he’d been cursed, I’d have known then as well. I had to scare off a few of the B-Rankers with some targeted [Intimidation] but otherwise it was ok. He just wandered in one day acting as if no time at all had passed since the last ti
me I heard the name Sven."

  Lloyd stopped talking for a moment as words caught in his throat. “I don’t know if he’s our Sven, but he thinks he is, and I’d like to believe that too.”

  Galen nodded. “He’s not an undead either. Ive been digging. I talked to the merchant Bartleby. Apparently, he saw him use in battle some techniques of the Monastery of the Soaring Spirit, and then went on to consecrate Ma Riley’s grave and even planted an Undine spirit there for protection.”

  Ash responded. “See? I told you its Sven. How many people do you know can use those techniques outside of the order? Two? Three?”

  “A handful and no more,” Galen admitted.

  Lloyd interrupted. “I heard the guards talking about it. He was carrying an old S-Rank Emblem. Those can’t be faked, but didn’t the guild discontinue those?”

  Galen nodded. “That we did. Wasn’t a lot of point anymore. The guild never recovered from our losses to the Demon Lord Mannon. Outside of the 3 of us, and this stays between us, I doubt there’s even ten S-Rankers still alive, counting those in retirement.

  “He’s Sven. I don’t know how, but it’s him. I was following him for awhile before I worked up the nerve to talk to him.” Ash replied. “When I first showed up, I meant to confront the man who claimed to be Sven, but then it was him. Looked like him, at least. But he doesn’t remember me, and I don’t know why. As much as I want to scream and shake him, I can’t. You know how magic can be, whatever this is, I can’t force it to fix itself. Something is wrong with him though. He doesn’t remember much.””

  “I understand the feeling. He was my friend too,” Galen responded. “For a lot longer than he knew either of you. I want this to be true, but we have to be careful. “

  “Sven was a lot more than my friend Galen.” Ash retorted.

  Galen sighed. Ash glared.

  It was Lloyd who broke the silence again. “I think it’s safe to assume three things until proven otherwise. One, whether he’s the real Sven or not, he wants to help and is powerful. Two, I don’t think he’s behind the rise in the undead and the disappearances of adventurers, but I do think they’re related. Three, one of us needs to go back to the Dreadmoore. Only when one of us has looked into the Cairn of Lost Heroes where Sven was buried will we have our answer.”