by M J Sweeney
“Jobs?” he replied. “Not really… we need a new barmaid, but I don’t think you have the figure for it.” He smirked.
“Funny. If you hear anything, can you let me know? I do guarding, monster slaying, questing, investigating, healing, a bit of medicine; that kind of thing.”
“Guarding and healing?” he asked curiously.
“Jack of all trades, kind of,” I replied.
“All right, I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Thanks. See you around.”
I strolled back to Drognad’s temporary little store and waited till he had a break from selling anti-aging cream. When I told him the details of my fight with Max, he seemed quite non-committal, which was nice. When I told him my next thought, he frowned and asked if it was wise.
“Wise? I don’t know. I just think… I hope it’s the right thing to do.”
He just nodded and said, “Good.”
To give myself a bit more time, I walked back down the street to the smith. Alhain was working on a longbow and its bowstring, stringing and unstringing and restringing the thing, checking this and that. What did I know?
“Hello, friend smith,” I greeted Alhain. He looked down at my tattered boots.
“Been in the wars, son?”
“More of those armoured rats. The shovel really helped; thanks.”
He grinned. “Any luck?”
“Yes indeed; I exterminated the lot and got paid.”
“Maximus will be happy.”
“Maybe. Once he gets over his mad…”
Alhain frowned at that comment, then nodded at me. “Does this mean you’re ready to buy some gear?”
“Yes indeed. I fear my feet would suffer too much without instant assistance.” I wriggled the toes of my socks through the holes in the boots. They had never fit that well anyway.
“You’re in luck,” he said. “I did see you had mostly destroyed one boot already, so I worked on these first.” He knelt under the table and unlocked a chest. He handed me some beautifully tooled boots of elvish leather. Brown, flexible, nothing flashy. But the leather felt amazing: soft, strong, and thick. I couldn’t wait to wear them.
I handed him the old leather armour I had and the bent spear. “So, how much for the exchange now?” I asked.
He looked at the bent spear and my old gear and shrugged. “The same.”
“That’s kind of you, sir.” I placed two zorb and eight dran on the table. “I should be able to pay you the rest over the next few weeks.”
He nodded acceptance.
While I quickly added what was left in my coin pouch. The mixed coins were a mess; I would sort through them and the rest of my gear after this. “How long until the rest of it is ready?”
“About a week, not longer; likely six days. Bennih will do most of the set-up work, so you should be around the next few days so he can measure and readjust things as we go, so no mistakes later.”
“All right.” I smiled at the young high elf, who smiled shyly back.
I held out the lute. “Do you know anything about restringing lutes?”
Alhain smiled and took it. “Do you play?” He plucked the strings, but grimaced. It did sound a bit sick. The lute had the full complement of thirteen strings, so it would take some adjusting and learning to play the various chords. I had been used to only six strings back home, and that only barely.
“Not really,” I replied, “or at least not for a long time. But I noticed I often have little to do in the evening, and so a bit of music to pass the time would be nice, particularly if I’m out camping.” I couldn’t sing worth a damn. I wondered if that had changed in a wood elf body.
“I can do it. Won’t cost you much.” He smiled, stroking the instrument in a fond kind of way.
“Great. I also need a new weapon and wanted your advice.”
“All right, go on.”
“You see, I’ve taken to the quarterstaff, but I’ve also seen how versatile a spear is for certain things—a better piercing weapon, and hunting and such. If you had to choose between the two weapons, for adventuring, which one is better?”
“The main advantage of the staff is that it’s easy to acquire, fairly easy to learn and find training in, and is also a very effective weapon against almost all humanoids. The spear is a little similar, but because of its blade, it’s usually more effective against certain beasts, particularly those with armour. A spear, though, can have huge variation—weight, balance, and so on, so it’s not as good a defensive weapon as the staff. If I had to pick, I’d say spear, as attack is the best defence, as they say.” My face fell, as that kind of put holes in my original choice and build strategy. Damn.
“But,” he said, “there is a third option. The staff-spear. It’s built balanced like a quarterstaff and has as good a defensive range, and it has the piercing blade of a classic spear. It doesn’t have the reach of a full boar spear or lance, but it is more versatile, and easy enough to carry around.”
“Yes…” I was almost drooling. Fuck yes! “Okay, that sounds great. So, next question: do you have any enchanted weapons for sale? Let’s say a wonderful upgraded version of a staff-spear?”
He laughed at my theatrics and shook his head. “Yes, I have enchanted weapons for sale; no to the staff-spear. That would be another drawback. The staff-spear is a fairly rare magic item. Not crazy-rare like a sai or hooksword, but still rare. I do have a magic quarterstaff for sale—just not sure if that’s what you’re after now, given the look on your face.”
Damn. I sighed. “There’s something else I noticed. When I was practicing and training a little with my spear, I noticed that my skill with quarterstaff seemed to help with that and vice versa.”
“Yes, when you don’t have so much skill…” He glanced at me to see if I would take offense, so I just shrugged. It was true enough. “You can practice with similar weapon types, to see where you have greater affinity. So, skill with a specific one-handed sword will grant you general skill with all one-handed sword types. If you have good general skill in swords, you can fairly easily shift your emphasis from a short sword specialist to a long sword specialist if you want. Just takes a bit of training and time. In your case, that would apply to most variations of staff and spear, and possibly halberds. With greater skill, though, it gets harder as the type of specialisation is locked in, so at that point you’re better off persisting with the higher skill and finding someone to craft you the weapon you want.”
He was talking a little bit like a player, a foreigner from Earth, but I knew he wasn’t. It was strange, but also comforting somehow. I guessed most people from this world had to be able to use the interface data, else the players would have an unfair advantage. “So basically it’s better to experiment now, decide early on, and focus on that line of development.”
“Yes.”
“All right, I can’t deny the staff-spear sounds great. What kind of crafting can you do for that; how long and how much?”
“I’m not surprised. Wood and metal. The wood range is basically oak, ash, hickory, ironwood, ghostwood. I can’t make anything with ironwood or ghostwood as I don’t have enough on hand. They’re hard to get and hard to treat; plus, if it’s grown, you need permission from the tree. You would understand that, yes?”
I nodded. I wondered if asking your own tree was considered offensive. Could I make a staff from sequoia? Probably. It was something to think on.
Interrupting my train of thought, Alhain continued, “Metal goes from bronze and iron, to steel, silver-steel, mithril, and adamantite at the top end of the spectrum. I can make you a hickory staff with a silver-steel spear head and butt. How does that sound?”
I nodded my head quickly in agreement.
“Now, cost would be… actually, I don’t rightly know.” He scratched his head. “I would have to take some measures and gauge amount of metal, amount of wood, time in the forge, et cetera. Most likely four or five zorb. It will also take about three weeks to complete.”
&nbs
p; I coughed. Damn. Although I had those funds now, courtesy of Max, I couldn’t spend it. It just wouldn’t be right.
“Any way to lower the cost?” I asked. “What about helping in the forge?”
He frowned and shook his head. “I already have two apprentices.”
“Ah, never mind. I’ll figure something out. How about I give you twenty dran now for the staff-spear, non-refundable? That way you can get a start on it, and I can provide more coins as I get jobs.”
“Acceptable.”
My interface dinged again.
“One last thing. I was hoping to find a clothier and a weapon trainer in town. Can you help with that?”
“Certainly. The clothier and tailor is Menisme’s Art; don’t be fooled by the sign. It’s up past the markets, right at the end.”
I hadn’t gone up that way yet, so no wonder I hadn’t seen it.
“For weapons training, I suggest Sergeant Allih, my brother. He’s usually around the barracks, bossing someone around. The barracks are by the South Gate, the training yards just outside of town beyond that.”
“Thanks.”
Deciding to brave the lion’s den so to speak, as it was only next door, I walked back inside Max’s shop. He popped his head out from the counter, and his smiling face immediately fell.
“You.”
“Wait, Max…” I held up one hand placatingly. “I… crap. Sorry. I just came to apologise.” Fuck, that tasted like acid in my mouth. I was not someone who normally apologised. For anything. This was like wearing two left shoes. Totally stupid and clumsy, and it was my idea. But I was also ready to run right out the door if he started shouting again.
He frowned and walked out from behind the counter. At least he wasn’t exploding. “Go on.” He didn’t look so mad now… strangely enough, he looked kind of shame-faced himself.
“Look,” I began, “I… may have been a bit hasty. Firstly, I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard for the magic bag. I could’ve easily asked for something else… You see, that stuff I sold to you was from the house. The house that you own…” I trailed off, waiting for him to get mad again.
“Oh, that. Yes I knew it. But you had looter’s rights; I didn’t argue your right to take what you could after clearing out the beasts.”
“Oh… well.” I guessed my initial instinct had been correct. This world had less rules, or different rules rather, about adventuring and looting. “But, you see, I didn’t know that. I took the stuff knowing it felt wrong.”
He started to wave off my explanation, but I forged ahead. “No, really. It just doesn’t sit right with me. Here is the money for the jewellery.” I put the coins—over five zorb—down on his counter top.
“Wait,” he started to stay, “first wife said…”
“Look. Please. Let me do this.”
He started to laugh then, and pulled out the Bag of Holding. Then he laughed some more. I just looked at him perplexedly, and he just continued laughing. He showed me the front of the bag, and on it was attached a piece of paper that read “Dryad’s Bag!” fairly slashed across it.
“I’ve been threatened with bloody murder if I didn’t give this to you in exchange for the deed. All wives are in agreement, and I’m outvoted. So you see… my hands are tied.” He pointed at the writing. “Second wife’s handwriting, first wife’s orders!”
“Shit, dude…”
He frowned, clearly unfamiliar with the expression.
“But I still want to leave you these coins here. Consider them a tip… you can claim it was extra items that I bought from your inventory.”
He shook his head again. “Second wife keeps meticulous accounting.”
“Or just use them for private beer money. Shit! I don’t know, just take it, or I’ll leave them on the floor.”
He was now thrusting the bag at me, almost growling. “Take it dryad.”
Then we were both laughing in a stupid kind of way. It was ridiculous, from one extreme to the next. I rolled up the velvet and put it inside my backpack. I handed him the deed to the farm.
“Beer money?” he said.
“Sure, why not. Got a better idea?”
“No. No, I do not.”
I can’t say we parted as friends exactly, but at least now we weren’t enemies. I also felt a lot lighter. In times past, I’d have never been able to resolve things like that. I usually just kept fighting with a do-or-die attitude, even when intellectually I knew better.
***
I wandered over to the shop of the clothier, Menisme. I now had just one zorb in change left. Not enough to pay for my new spear, but enough to get some new clothes for sure. The sign out front was odd—a swirling kaleidoscope of colour, more psychedelic art than a retail store—but whatever. Menisme was an elderly elf, and looked it, sort of. She was one of the few elves I had seen with a few age lines on her face, though she still looked barely over forty. I ordered two sets of new travel clothes, thick cotton with simple tan and brown colours, one dark green shirt, and simple cotton briefs. Underpants! What a miracle. Overall, it wasn’t too expensive, but my funds were getting dangerously low again.
One carry-over I had from earth was that I hated being untidy. I liked having my hair in place, my shoes tied, so-to-speak (not many shoe laces here), and my appearance always neat and tidy. I hated untucked shirts, mismatched colours, food stains, or dirt stains, that kind of thing. I don’t know if that was because of being a bouncer—appearances and a strong physical presence were often more significant than being able to fight—or if I’d always been like that. Maybe a bit of both. So I really would have liked to add to my wardrobe.
In any case I would also need spare clothes for the under-armour padding; it was uncomfortable as hell to wear armour without the right underlay, whether light, medium, or heavy armour. I couldn’t just ‘click’ on the armour and have it cover me, form-fitting in an instant. You needed socks, underpants, a shirt, pants, and padding around the groin and upper arms to avoid chafing. But all of that wore out quickly, and would need repairing or replacing (and washing!) fairly frequently. And on top of that, I wanted a few sets of clothes that I could wear like a normal person, and not be considered a complete hick.
It was also not really possible to wear armour all day and all night. I had to take most of it off at night and look for what needed repairing constantly. Fortunately, I could wear light armour for longer periods of time than others; heavy armour was definitely worse. You would typically only put a full set of heavy on before major battles or going on a delve; otherwise, while running or riding, you would wear a set of casual armour—typically light or medium—and maybe just keep on your heavy armour helm to protect your most vulnerable asset: your brain.
After making my way back to Drognad again, we had some lunch. A busy morning. I explained the resolution with Maximus, and he seemed pleased. Gnomes liked things orderly and proper.
Equipping myself, I put on my potion belt, happy with the comforting weight, added the money belt after putting the coins in the right slots, and put on my magic socks. I wriggled my toes, enjoying how they felt. But although they were warm, there was no noticeable magic effect. Next, I put on my new boots and happily showed them off to Drognad. I put on my new magic silver ring—it had a small ruby chip—for fire resistance, increasing that stat by five percent. Not much, but considering I was already at a twenty percent deficit there, any improvement was a bonus.
I hung the small metal compass around my neck from a leather cord, then placed almost everything else in my Bag of Holding, except for a copper flask of water and a couple of small cooking pots, one inside the other. I put the Bag of Holding folded up in between those, and then put that inside my now near empty backpack. Not so easy to find it that way.
Then, I finally accessed my interface. The first thing I noticed was that I was close to level 5, when I would get my first real warrior abilities. I was really happy about that.
I had one spare point to allocate, so this time, I
started to do some calculations. Basically, the general limit for attributes was 100; same for skills. At adventurer level 100, a character would automatically have their primary stat at 100, or a bit higher if your racial maximum was over the limit. It wasn’t logical to put unallocated points into your primary attribute when another attribute would go lacking. This meant that your primary attribute would increase steadily but slowly, which might be a bit frustrating—especially at only one point increase per level. This would tend to make it harder to level earlier on, and more likely to die. But later on, it would get easier, as your total on all stats would actually be better.
For me, this meant not putting extra points into agility, or even charisma, as both of these would increase slowly on their own, even though I wanted to.
I decided most of my unallocated points would go into vitality, then intellect, and eventually—maybe—I would put some into charisma after that. Being able to increase my charisma as time went on would be great, as so far, having the ability to persuade people into stuff was invaluable. Being liked (a wood elf, I discovered, was fairly well-liked by most other races) was also important. My luck attribute had actually increased slightly without me putting points into it, as you couldn’t do that yourself. Memory itself allocated luck, so I wasn’t sure if taking stupid risks increased luck, or it was better to take careful planned risks. As I figured I’d done a little of both, I was getting a little luckier.
I put one more point into vitality. This time I was more prepared, sitting on my bedroll in Drognad’s camp. It felt really good as I felt my life force expanding somehow, my stamina, fitness, and general well-being increasing. I also felt more connection with the earth, and could even feel the whispers of my tree, off to the north-west. My elbow-leaves twitched mildly in reply.
/ Cordaen Sequoia, Level 4 Warrior-Priest /
STR 20
INT 22
AGI 23
VIT 22
CHA 19
LCK 15