The shop was small, a well-maintained wooden storefront with dark glass made even darker by the lack of sunshine. The building was a contrast to the weathered stores and houses around it, but there was a ruggedness to it that let it blend in.
A metal sign held the name of the shop. Along with a depiction of a sword drenched in blood. Ironblood’s Weaponry.
An auspicious name, to be sure.
I tugged at the wooden door, and it slid open without so much as a squeak as I entered the shop. My eyes tried to adjust as I stepped inside. Shadows clung to the dim space. It was lit only by a rough iron chandelier and a handful of sconces along the stone walls. A few display cases stood next to the windows, holding quality weaponry, but its wares dominated most of the space in the shop.
Weapons of all kinds sat in wooden racks next to the walls or in cases next to armor sets in the center of the room. Nearly every bit of space was dominated by implements of death, save for the walkways to look around or the long, wooden counter in the back.
The shop was quaint, and though dark, the tension eased out of me.
I was right. This shop caters to those like myself. It was in the atmosphere of the place, a quietness that told me I could relax for just a moment here.
I skirted around the many swords, hammers, and axes and made my way to the counter.
A large man stood leaning against it. He wore a black cotton shirt and a brown leather apron with scorch marks marring the surface. His blue eyes regarded me calmly as I approached, watching me with a practiced gaze.
The man was thick, not with fat, but with dense muscle. He had a heavily scarred face, numerous smaller cuts, and one giant scar leading from the front of his shaved head to the back.
“You have the look of a man who's seen and done much in his life,” he said in a low, graveled voice. “What can I do for you today?”
“I could use some weapons,” I replied, leaning against the wooden counter as we spoke. “I’ve found myself woefully under-equipped as of late, and I’d very much like to remedy that.”
He nodded, the corners of his eyes lifting in humor as a chuckle rose from his throat. “Well, you certainly didn’t come here for the fresh bread I bake daily. What kind of weapon suits you best? Let me see.”
He stopped and stared at me, his eyes flicking away from my eyes to my body and my hands as he hummed under his breath. “Too lean for a war hammer or battle axe. And your hands have the calluses of a swordsman.”
“Good eye.” I chuckled and held out my hand. “Name’s Elias McKinley.”
“Terrance Ironblood.” He grabbed my hand firmly, meeting my gaze, and shook.
The easiest way to get a measure of a man was with a handshake. It could tell a lot about a person. And Terrance had a good one. My gut told me that Terrance was a decent man, and his handshake lent him at least a little bit of credibility.
I liked him almost immediately.
“A sword is one of my preferred weapons, but not what I need right now. I’m new to the city, and I’m afraid my funds are rather limited to be thinking about buying a sword. For now, I need knives.” I let my eyes wander around the store. “But not just any pig stickers you have lying around. I’m rather particular about my weapons. They’ll need to be made to my specifications.”
Terrance grinned wide, showing off his slightly yellowed teeth. “A man who knows exactly what he wants and isn’t afraid to speak his mind. Knew I liked you.” He scratched at the scar on the side of his head. “Though custom work ain’t exactly cheap…” he trailed off.
Guess it’s time to find out how much my vahn is worth.
“I’ve got just over five hundred vahn right now.”
He nodded, still scratching his head. “That should be good enough to whip up something decent, depending on the complexity of the order. Though I’m assuming you don’t want to spend every last vahn you have in my shop, correct?”
I shrugged. “I’d rather have enough for food and lodging, but weapons take priority. I can go without food and sleep long enough to earn more coin if that’s what it takes.”
“Won’t make you sleep on the streets if I can help it,” he said with a shake of his head. “But why don’t you give me the details first.”
“Sure.” A smile formed on my lips as I held up a finger. “First, I need two daggers. Full tang and the highest quality steel you can get. A leaf blade design if possible and leather-wrapped hilts.”
He nodded and pulled out a sheet of parchment, writing down the order.
I held up another finger. “Second, I’ll also need eight throwing knives, but like the daggers, they will need to be custom made. I also need them to be a little heavier than normal.”
Terrance smiled as he finished writing, his eyes glinting. “I can do it, but you might be better off buying a pre-made sword. It’d be cheaper.” He contemplated for a moment while he kept rubbing his head. “The best steel around is manasteel. And it’s quite expensive since I have to have it shipped from Calcross…not to mention the custom design.”
“How much?” I asked.
He tapped his fingers on the counter, counting in his head. “A thousand, and not a single vahn less,” he said sheepishly, turning back and looking at me. “And that’s the absolute best deal you’re going to get. Normally, I’d charge twelve for a job like this.”
I frowned. “Only problem is that I don’t have that much vahn. Not even close.”
“I know, I know.” He smirked. “I wouldn’t’ve said anything if I knew you couldn’t pay for it. Which is why I’ve got something of an offer for you.”
“I’m listening.”
Terrance nodded, crossing his arms. “I have a quest that needs to get done. And my usual idiot can’t do it. So, it happens that I’m in the market for a new hired hand.”
“What’s the job?”
“Courier service.” He grinned wide. “Need you to send a message to a customer of mine who thinks he can stiff me on payment.”
“How come you can’t use your regular?” I asked.
“Because both the man who owes me and the man who works for me belong to the Adventurer’s Guild.”
“Adventurer’s Guild?”
He cocked his head to the side, once more scratching the scar along his head. “You really are new around here, huh? The guild employs adventurers who undertake quests for them. Things like bandit raids, wild animal attacks, and the occasional monster.”
I blinked. “Monsters? You mean the Beastkin?”
“Yeah…well, kinda. Most of them are just like humans, but there are a few subspecies that are one step away from mindless animals, but I don’t know much about them…and we’ve gotten off-topic. Where was I? Oh, right. The reason I need help is the guild doesn’t allow violence against other members.”
“Which leaves you at an impasse,” I said.
“Until you came along.”
I snorted. “What’s the pay?”
“He owes me almost seven hundred vahn. Since this isn’t about the money but the intent, half the coin is yours if you recover the vahn. Yours to pay me with, of course.” Terrance chuckled to himself and offered me his hand. “You do this for me, and I’m willing to extend a little trust. I’ll take the vahn and make the order with the rest of the payment due upon delivery.”
It was a decent offer, one that I needed. All I had to do was teach one lowlife a lesson. I brushed my hair back as I thought on it.
Terrance seems on the level, and this job isn’t difficult. It’s probably the best offer I’m going to get if I want to get good quality equipment.
I laughed as I realized the underlying warning in the quest. “You want me to teach a lesson to someone about paying on time while you’re offering me a payment plan,” I smirked and shook his hand. “Clever.”
“Glad you appreciate the symmetry.” He chuckled and reached below the counter and pulled out a letter. “If you can get the vahn back without violence, all the better, but he’s a pig-h
eaded sonuvabitch so expect some resistance.”
He slid a letter across the counter. “Get my vahn back, rough Bradley up a bit if you have to, and I’ll consider it a personal favor.”
“I’ll get your money. Have no fear of that.” I looked down, and a flush of shame crept up my cheeks. “Any chance I can borrow some gear until mine gets finished?”
I opened my cloak to showcase my cheap weapons.
Terrance eyed me once more with his practiced eye and snorted. “Considering the way you hold yourself and your taste in weapons, I bet there’s a fine story of how you ended up in rags wielding those rusty sticks.”
“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.”
He laughed and thumbed back towards a wooden door to the side behind his counter. “Yeah, you can borrow some gear I’ve got lying around. I’ll lend them to you for three hundred vahn. They aren’t the best by any means, but they’ll serve you better than the rusted junk you have strapped to yourself now.”
He left and then came back a few minutes later with a bundle wrapped in cloth. He unrolled it and revealed two small daggers, plain and unadorned, iron by the look of the blades with wooden handles.
They certainly weren’t the best I’d ever used by far, but they were built with quality and would work well for the business of dealing death.
The throwing knives were about the same quality, though, like the daggers, they weren’t up to my standards. But I could tell I could throw them well enough just by picking one up, so they would work in the interim.
Terrance was also kind enough to throw in a set of leather sheaths and a harness for my knives. The two daggers hung at my sides while the knives were in a sheath going diagonal across my chest.
I practiced drawing them and was satisfied for the most part.
“Thank you,” I said as I equipped my new gear and threw my threadbare cloak over my shoulders. “I’ll make sure to take good care of them and return them in the condition you gave them to me.”
He shrugged, a wry grin on his face. “And if not, I keep your coin.”
“Right.” I pulled out my coin purse and counted the coin. “That’s three hundred for the loan, and I’ll be back soon with your money for the custom work.”
“Yeah, about that.” After he took the payment, he pushed the parchment my way and handed me the pen. “If you’re any hand at drawing, give me the exact specifications you want and the general design of the leaf blade you want. I can handle the rest.”
After taking the pen from him, I sketched the knives I wanted and gave him further specifications on how I wanted the throwing knives to be weighted and balanced.
“When can you have them done by?” I asked.
“Couple of weeks,” he replied. “Month at most.”
I nodded and took the letter he left on the counter.
Quest: Debt Collector: Bradley Loren
Difficulty: Easy
Rewards: 150 Exp
(-75% for unrelated quest)
38 Exp+347 Vahn
I accepted the quest.
He inclined his head and leaned both of his meaty arms on the counter. “Much obliged, Elias. Once the job’s done, come back here, and I’ll send off for the materials. I’ll see if I can have the order done in about three weeks.” He looked away and started muttering. “All depends on my damn supplier.”
I thanked him once more and had turned around to walk out of the shop when he stopped me.
“Since you’re new here, if you head out to the main street and follow it till you get to the large fountain in the center of town, you’ll see a large, three-story brick building. That’s the Adventurer's Guild. Bradley usually hangs out at the bar from what I hear.”
I smiled and thanked him again as I double-checked my cloak to make sure my weapons were hidden as I left.
It wasn’t terrible advice, and I could probably find work there as well. I needed money. Probably wouldn’t hurt to make some quick vahn by doing a few quests. I still need to find out where the underworld does business and make contact, but that can wait until I have some coin in my pocket and a roof over my head.
With better equipment and a small job to do, I set off.
Chapter 8- A Swift Conversation
I took Terrence’s advice and headed back to the main road.
It took about half an hour of walking, but I eventually made my way out of the slums and back into the city's main section. Terrance gave good directions, and I soon found myself in front of an enormous statue that spewed water.
It was rather ostentatious, a gaudy monument that stood out compared to the muted buildings around it. The statue was in the shape of a man who stood in a regal pose while water rose in a circle all around him. The artist had taken time with the face. He had sharp and refined features like a king, a large hawkish nose, and weak, villainous eyes.
Next to the statue was the building that was obviously the Adventurer's Guild. It was easily the tallest building in the small square. They’d accented the red brick with rich hues of mahogany around the windows and the façade. The slate shingle roof also screamed extravagance.
A small patio jutted out from the side of the building where several men and women sat talking, eating, and drinking.
Each of them had the rugged appearance of career mercenaries. All of them wore armor and weaponry, a mixture of leather, chainmail, and plate. They sat around the tables without a care.
At first, it seemed I’d fit right in, but as I got closer, my unease grew. The place set my teeth on edge, and I wasn’t quite sure why.
I had a feeling there was more danger in that one building than in the whole of London back home. Crowds were an assassin's best friend, but a crowd of heavily armed fighters and adventurers, each of whom bore the stare of seasoned veterans, was incredibly dangerous to someone in my profession.
I shook off the shiver of unease that crawled up my spine and made my way toward the building.
Next to the patio were a set of large, oak double doors, above which hung a metal sign affixed to the brick. A pair of crossed swords over a shield, and underneath it read Adventurer's Guild.
I gave the groups of adventurers a wide berth as I made my way into the building. The doors didn’t so much as creak, and they opened on well-oiled hinges. Stepping in from the heat of the day was a slap to the face as a rush of cool air escaped past me, only to die a quick death at the hands of the beating sun outside. It chilled the slight sheen of sweat from my face and rose goosebumps along my skin.
The first floor was large, with ample lighting from the torch sconces affixed to the brick walls and the numerous hanging chandeliers. All polished brass that shined in the firelight. The floors were of well-crafted wood and extended to the wooden staircase in the back.
To my left was another set of doors with bits of glass laid in a pattern throughout the wood. Through the glass, there was what amounted to a bar. Loud voices and laughter, along with heavy music, drifted through the crack under the door. To my right was a long, wooden counter surrounded by brick, and a small, enclosed cage which held a petite, mousy woman with curly, brown hair and a splash of freckles under her vibrant green eyes.
Just in front of the counter was a small waiting room with a few chairs and tables around which a smattering of adventurers set.
My target was in the bar, but I figured depending on how our conversation went, I might not have a chance to speak to the Adventurer’s Guild afterward.
Though, depending on how membership works, I may have to wait to sign up until after I deal with Bradley, especially if violence isn’t permitted against members.
There was no one at the counter, so I made my way over and stood in front of the woman.
She smiled prettily, showing two rows of healthy, white teeth. “Hello, sir, and welcome to the Vohra City Adventurer’s Guild. May I see your guild license?”
I smiled back. “I’m afraid I don’t have a license. I’m new to the city, and a friend told me t
hat this was a good place to find some work.”
She didn’t even blink. “Of course, sir. If that’s the case.” She reached under the counter and pulled out a thick roll of parchment. “Then all you need to do is fill out the license registration form and present your proof of citizenship or visa.
“Then all I will need from you is the registration fee and the city tax.” Her eyes glanced down at my clothing, and the warm smile turned a little colder. “I’m afraid the tax has been raised recently, so it’s a little more expensive than you might be expecting.”
I shrugged and took the proffered roll and pen she gave me. As I unfurled it, I blanched. There were several pages of forms for me to fill out, and the information they requested was rather invasive.
“Legal name…place of birth…criminal history,” I muttered to myself, tapping the pen against the parchment.
The form asked for a lot of information I didn’t have or wasn’t willing to provide. Having all this information about me floating around would be troubling, not to mention that I’d have to lie my ass off. I can’t exactly say that I’m from another world now, can I?
“This is rather…thorough,” I said.
“Of course, sir.” Her slightly frosty smile stayed the same. “We do have a reputation to uphold, after all. And have no fear, we send all documents to Odra and verify the accuracy with the guild’s scrying mage.”
The subtle threat in her words was clear. Even if I didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Scrying mage?”
“Yes, sir. Our mage is highly skilled at long-distance communication and ascertaining the truth…but, due to the politics of the city, it does take several days for our courier to reach Odra and confirm the accuracy of the information. Still, the slight delay is well worth the safety and security to our guild.”
I’m assuming this scrying mage has the ability to tell whether or not a person lies on their forms, how is beyond me, but if it’s magic, then, of course I wouldn’t understand. So, this whole thing isn’t just a formality.
Isekai Assassin: Volume 1 Page 9