by Arthur Stone
Today, I was going to undertake a shopping trip of unprecedented magnitude. Starting with the clothes Beko had wanted for so long.
Guppy had plenty of ready to wear garments, but most of them were in adult sizes. Thankfully, the trading post had a good number of experienced tailors who could stitch the apparel down to teenager size. Shoes were harder to so modify, and I couldn’t find anything of suitable size. So the merchant sent Beko off to a cobbler. The man took the ghoul’s measurements and assured him that some light summer footwear would be ready the next day.
I let them measure my feet, too. My clothes were richer in origin than most people’s, but my active lifestyle and wretched home had worn them down to threads. And I had nothing suitable for inclement weather. Once I had chosen all of the desired items, they went off to tailoring.
Next, I wanted some kitchenware. Bowls, spoons, and mugs—and at last a handy pot with a lid. Now we could make a hot lunch right on our raft, and even brew some herbal tea, mixing in spices to potently recharge our strength A large waterproof tarpaulin took its place in the basket storage area. We could use it to take cover during cloudbursts.
I also acquired two pricey hunting knives crafted of exquisite steel, one for myself and one for Beko. The sight of the valuable blade nearly drove him mad. Two axes were purchased, too. I gave a craftsman designs for a backpack, a small belt-strapped bag and a protective sleeve for my spinning rod. After all, I had to keep my primary tools safe. I wanted to purchase a bow, but there were none to be found at the merchant’s.
He offered the obligatory alternative, of course. “It won’t take long to get one. Explain what you need and I’ll take care of it. Or take a look at this set of throwing knives.”
“Tell me about them.”
“They’re excellent knives, the best you’ll find here. Six in total, set in sheathes of lizard skin. Their balance is ideal, and their steel tip is forge-hardened. This knife will not break or lose its bite, not even if you hurl it into a boulder. But don’t get carried away. It’s just regular metal, after all, and will see some wear if you continue to repeat the boulder target practice.”
“Why hasn’t anyone bought them yet if they’re so good?”
“No one wants to spend that much money. They’re an expensive acquisition. Our hunters prefer bows, and our guards crossbows. Throwing knives isn’t for everyone. What would you use them for, Ged? Who’s the target?”
“We’re living in tough times. Some bandit is out there shooting people in the eye. Another is leaving people without their skin. A man should have a way to defend himself.”
“Do you know how to use these?”
“I’ll learn.”
“It’s not easy. You’ll have to practice a lot.”
“I’m a capable student. Alright. I’ll take all six, with the sheath belt. But let’s talk about the price. I’m sure you would accept, say, half?”
* * *
It was not the knives’ beauty which captivated me, but their practicality. The former did sweeten the deal, of course. The predatory outlines of the patterned steel, together with the black handles skillfully wrapped in impossibly thin strips of leather. As I wrapped my palm around the handle of one, I felt the threatening weight of the piece, and my blood rose, ready for a fight.
No. I must learn to use these without emotion.
I had not forgotten the lessons of my mother. Once, while she was describing to me various ways of unlocking skills, she mentioned an interesting fact. The basic Melee Weaponry talent was obtainable by using throwing knives, ninja stars, and other small, sharp objects. The ORDER considered all other melee mastery to spring from this source, from two-handed fencing to jousting on horseback. These talents required the appropriate branches, of course, and developing them was long and tedious, but this was the first step.
At some point sooner or later, I would find myself in a fight. That was the simple reality of this world. The sooner I began preparing for battle, the more ready I would be.
And the more likely I would be to avoid a fight in which the only blood spilt was my own.
When we reached the sandbar, we proudly marched past Romris’s group. Despite their new location, their catch so far left much to be desired. We checked our raft and loaded empty baskets into the cargo area. Instead of pushing off immediately, though, I had saved time for an hour of training, first.
Exercising, sparring with Beko, and throwing knives into a branch I dragged out of the shallow water. Most of the time, my blades flew past—or fell short—but sometimes I succeeded. For every ten successes or so, the ORDER gave me a starting talent mark for Melee Weaponry.
I felt great, so I activated it and pushed its value up to 10. That was the maximum before tier 2, where I would need to select a specialization. I wouldn’t do that now. I didn’t want to suddenly feel worse and yearn for a nap. I had fish to catch, not sheep to count. Hours of work lay ahead, and I had to be in the best shape I could be.
We raised anchor, and now, with our first day of experience behind us, we quickly arrived at the ideal location. It was a simple route: push out over the shallows of the sandbar, and continue until the poles stopped reaching the bottom. Then, the current brought us a bit downstream, near the end of the fastest stretch of water in the area. The bottom was conveniently sloped here, making a fortuitous anchor point for us. Coming back would only require a little work with the oars before returning to the poles.
* * *
The day was a routine one. Kotes, kotes, and more kotes. Then, I would hear the splashes made by the garpikes. Activating my talent, I would aim and cast and begin fighting the fish.
Over and over again this happened.
Either I was getting the hang of this or my nocturnal boost of three attributes was paying off, but my quarry’s resistance never lasted long. I even went for a kote weighing nearly 40 pounds—and it barely made me sweat. It took me a long time to work the fish to exhaustion, yes. Once or twice, I started to fear for my spinning rod’s survival, but all for naught. Just a few days ago, a giant like that could have easily yanked me into the water.
Just before lunch, we returned to land and completed another training session. Romris came to watch and called us a pair of pregnant dwarfs—then observed with interest as we moved towards our fishing spot. He very much liked to keep an eye on how we did what we did.
After a satisfying lunch, we lay on the raft for a time, sunbathing. I poured half of the rewards I had left into Equilibrium. The other half would be spent that night. This would boost my Equilibrium to 15—allowing me 6 more attribute levels. Five would go to Perception and to Spirit, and one to Stamina. The mismatch rule prevented me from spending any more on them.
That rule was pissing me off more and more with each hour that passed. I wanted to develop my Strength more—it was clearly insufficient. But before that, I would have to boost my Stamina, and so on. This limit could only be removed by transitioning to the next stage of Enlightenment, and that was the change which most risked my losing this favor of the ORDER. My rewards might revert to normal. I could push my Equilibrium to stratospheric levels. But not soon. My rewards remaining would be gone after this evening’s expenditure.
There was nowhere to buy such trophies at the trading post. Even in the South, such goods were rarely seen for sale, and when they were, they were obscenely priced. Today would be the last of my prizes, all spent on myself.
I regretted nothing. Even at my low state, my degree zero character, I looked pretty good. I had fifteen base attribute levels. Usually, that was only reached by the second or third degree if you were a commoner. Such folks would also have absolute point values far below maximum, but I had put 50 into each.
There were ways to push these even further. But that was a fantasy even for nobles, since obtaining such trophies was only possible by defeating hordes of opponents with Chaos coursing through their veins. Such creatures could be found in the North—if they didn’t find you first. But trophy drop rates were lo
w. You might slay a small army and not find what you wanted.
Prizes in the world of Rock were distributed according to a simple rule: whatever the enemy you killed had plenty of, you received. But only a small portion—usually one unit. And even that, not always. The stronger the enemy, the higher the chances you would be satisfied with the drop. A starter talent mark, a state piece, a chi symbol, or some attribute levels. Battles were very profitable affairs—for the side which didn’t lose.
We ended our fishing day early. Seven garpikes were obtained, more than double the three Ash had repeatedly insisted on. We had so many kotes that I had lost count.
The innkeeper would add them up. He was meticulous.
We did not head up to the post immediately—I organized another training session, to Beko’s amazement. My irrepressible energy was leading him to suspect not all was well with me.
Before dinner, I visited the carpenter and the blacksmith once again. I was requesting a new set of spinning rod parts. I had made some adjustments to remedy the quirks I had experienced the past couple of days. I needed a new rod for myself so I could give mine to Beko. That would significantly increase our chances of bagging more garpikes. Most were too quick and would simply sneak by us. The ghoul was nimble enough, and I’d already let him try. By the end, he had pulled a small kote out of the water with little help from me. After a day or two more of practice, he would obtain the skill. I would help him push to level 3 and life would become easier for both of us. Our catch would grow even larger, and we would have more free time during the day.
In theory.
* * *
I had something else to get at the blacksmith’s, too. After settling the matter of the new blueprints, I pointed to the wall—a spear was hanging there, the one I had noticed on my first visit. The wood was carved with intricate notches. I wanted to hold it. Its head was exorbitantly long, somewhat curved, and sharpened not just at the point but also along the outside of the curve. No, it did not bear much resemblance to my mother’s naginata, but the main principle was similar. Both could be used to stab, to slice, or to chop. It was an excellent weapon against both man and beast.
“How much are you selling that for?” I asked.
“Selling what?”
“The spear on the wall. How much does it cost?”
“That’s not a spear. It’s an ari.”
“The ari on the wall, then. How much?”
“It’s not for sale,” the man smiled. “My son is about to turn two years old. I made it for him. And let me tell you: I poured my soul into this ari. It’s the best craftsmanship I have ever produced.”
“I don’t think your son will be big enough for that weapon anytime soon, but I’m big enough. And I’ll pay for the craftsmanship. And the soul you poured into it. How much will that be?”
* * *
Ash’s word was law here, and executed quickly. Beko and I now had a place in the residential quarter, just behind the bathhouse. It was no villa, but being close to a good bath was a solid perk.
It was furnished only with a table made of split logs and two beds of the same material, with a pair of hay mattresses. A single, semi-translucent window lit the place. The mica obscuring the view was uncommon in the South, but all over up here. A rich vein had been discovered at the mine not too long ago, and so the trading post buildings used the material liberally.
As I visited the craftsmen, Beko moved all of our possessions to our new residence. He was startled to see me carrying the spear. It was such a beautiful weapon indeed.
“What do you need that for, Ged? That looks expensive.”
“Very,” I agreed. “Oro also promised me a crossbow and a quiver of bolts tomorrow. For you.”
“A crossbow? For me? It’ll be mine?!”
“Yes, yours.”
“Are we going to become hunters?”
“Why would we do that?”
“Well, otherwise why do we need so many weapons?”
“Because we’re winners, Beko! Were you planning to kill your enemies with spitballs and insults?”
“I understand, we need a way to protect ourselves. But this is a lot of weapons. Weapons cost a lot of money. You must have spent all the money.”
“That’s no problem—tomorrow we’ll make more. Ah, and you’re getting the spinning rod tomorrow!”
“Honestly?”
“Why would I lie to you? You’ve been doing well with it. I’ll give it to you when I get my new one. We’ll catch garpikes at twice the speed! We’ll have so much money we could paper the walls with squares.”
“Don’t paper the walls! We can put it in pots and bury them. That’s what one of the people here did, they say. Then the man got killed in the mine. Haven’t you seen Romris wandering the hill with a shovel sometimes? He’s been looking for the money.”
As Beko mumbled on about lost treasure, his voice slowly trailing off, I spent 500 chi to boost Perception to 3 and Spirit to 2. I moved to activate, at last, the Artificer talent, but then nearly scolded myself, and then nearly descended into laughter.
At myself and my own stupidity.
In the euphoria of the spinning and shopping today, I had miscalculated. In order to activate this difficult talent, I needed 600 chi. I could scrape that together, sure, but that was just the start. Every talent boost cost a hundred more. To develop this new talent, I would need another 1000.
I didn’t have anything close to that—and an undeveloped talent was barely worth anything, in practice. Investing so much without any hope for a quick return did not align with my growth strategy.
Haste almost made waste. From now on, I would be more precise. Thankfully, the error was not a critical one. Perception and Spirit would be useful. I would have needed to boost them eventually, anyway.
I used the chi elsewhere, boosting Stamina by one point.
Now, it was time to sleep.
Chapter 33
A Truly Terrible Man
Degrees of Enlightenment: 0 (321/888)
Shadow: 321
Attributes:
Stamina: level 7, 350 points
Strength: level 4, 200 points
Agility: level 5, 250 points
Perception: level 3, 150 points
Spirit: level 2, 100 points
Energy:
Warrior Energy: 150 points
Mage Energy: 100 points
Talents:
Fishing Connoisseur (tier 3): 10/10
Cure Wounds (tier 2): 10/10
Melee Weaponry (tier 1): 10/10
Free Talents:
Spinning Rod Master (tier 3): 10/10
States:
Equilibrium (15.21): level 15
Enhanced Enlightenment (0.50): level 0
Shadow of Chi (0.50): level 0
Measure of Order (3.00): level 3
The next day was entirely routine, except for my retrieval of the crossbow, the quiver of bolts, the parts for my new spinner and rod, and the protective sleeves, all of which I picked up after our second training session, just before lunch. The sleeves would help conceal our tools of the trade, so we would probably encounter fewer looks of envy.
Beko and I were becoming famous far too quickly. It was indeed suspicious: the worthless teenagers of yesterday somehow now procuring an endless supply of garpikes. Many wished their fortunes were half as good. I hoped to somehow mitigate the envy of the people. That was one reason why we spent a good deal of time training, rather than fishing as much as possible. It wasn’t just to become better fighters; it was to dampen our prosperity. Perhaps we could find a better fishing spot, but why would we bother? We had more than enough here, even with time left for training and development.
I had not learned Hand-to-Hand Combat, but that didn’t stop me from beating Beko eight out of ten times. My boosted attributes were starting to make their presence known. Yes, my comrade’s Enlightenment was higher, but he was clearly behind in other numbers. Plus, as I mentioned, a talent which had not b
een fully developed gave only a negligible advantage.
The ghoul had been observing my progress and now began complaining that he was of little use. He said I should find a better, more experienced teacher. I could pay for excellent hand-to-hand training. This would also give me talent marks more often—the higher your opponent’s level, the greater your chances of having such treasures drop.
We ate lunch on the shore. It was a marvelous meal—something we rapidly got used to. I began to feel sleepy afterwards, but there was no time for a nap. Midges of some kind flew over in a mob, enticed by the smell of the fish. They did not bite much, but it was a nuisance regardless.
We retreated to the very end of the sandbar. Small sun-warmed stones lined the beach underneath us, and soon we ourselves were sun-warmed.
Normally, I wouldn’t have been so sleepy. But boosting my ORDER parameters so quickly had that effect. Twenty-one maxed-out attribute levels in a couple of weeks was incredible development speed. Even a noble with access to the richest sources of marks and levels couldn’t gain such growth in months. But I was still far behind in my overall development. I had to make progress at maximum speed. So I had to eat enough for two full-grown men—and sleep enough for both, too.