by J. T. Wright
“Where have you been, stuck on the beetle farm?” Maryann said derisively. “There’s a new shipment of Spell Stones at the general goods store. They’ve even got some tier-two Spells! With the seniors and every Rogue in the field, no one is diving. We're all trying to raise what money we can until they get back.”
“You’re planning on selling enough Charms to buy a tier-two Spell?” Kerry didn’t try to suppress the laugh that burst out of him. “You might as well try and sell rocks! You'd probably make more that way!”
Trent tuned out the argument and rolled the crystal held between his fingers. He had never seen anything quite like it. He would buy every charm on the blanket if Maryann would just tell him what it was and where it came from. Kerry thought he was keeping Trent from being cheated; Trent wished the Warrior would shut up.
“They’re Beast Shards, from the Trial.” Trent had been contemplating closing Kerry’s mouth by demonstrating how the armor over his knee wasn’t thick enough to stop Sorrow, when a soft voice saved Kerry from a punishment he didn’t know he’d earned.
“Beast Shards?” Trent said wonderingly, turning his head towards the girl who had set up shop next to Maryann. “Are they like Cores?”
Wearing a black robe and a tall pointed hat, its wide brim obscuring her face, the girl kneeling on the nearby blanket answered him slowly, “Yes, they are Cores. That of low-leveled Beasts.”
“You’re wrong,” Trent said, frowning. “I've taken regular Cores from low-leveled Beasts.”
“Cores can be Harvested from minor creatures, yes. But Shards are drops from Trial Beasts. They’re fairly common on the first three floors. You won’t see a full Core until the fourth.” The girl paused for a moment before lifting a hand and pointing at the Shard Trent still gripped. “Normally Shards are worth 90 coppers, but that one has been ruined. It’s not worth more than ten.”
“First Kerry and now you, Felicia! What did I ever do to the two of you?” Maryann broke off from scolding Kerry to turn on her neighbor. “Why do you care what I sell my goods for, and how dare you say the shards are ruined?”
“I dare,” Felecia said calmly, “because an Archmage could place a Charm in a Shard, and there’s still only a fifty percent chance that a person will be able to learn it. You've taken an object worth ninety coppers and decreased its value. That’s fine if you’re practicing Mana Manipulation. Trying to sell them for a thousand times what they’re worth is immoral.”
“Immoral? That’s harsh! They’re worth what people will pay for them.” Maryann panicked as Trent set the shard back down. Seeing her money slipping away, she snatched at his arm. “Ten coppers! She said they’re worth ten coppers. Thinking about it, that’s fair.”
But Trent was already moving away to see what Felicia had for sale. He found himself just as curious about the strips of cloth that she had laid out. Picking up the most vividly dyed one, Trent held it up. “What are these for?”
With Trent directly in front of her, Felicia was able to see his face clearly inside his cowl, and her voice was timid as she forced out, “They’re scarves.”
“Scarves.” Trent tried out the word and found he liked it. “What do they do?”
“You wear them on cold days, around your neck.” Felicia's hand trembled as she pulled the brim of her hat lower.
Trent rubbed the cloth against his cheek. It was soft and thin, not at all scratchy, though that was how it looked. He pulled his cowl off and tucked it into his belt, then wrapped the scarf around his neck, securing the ends by pushing them under the collar of his armor.
“It’s like a sock for your head!” Trent’s laugh was warm and full, but hearing it, Felicia shivered. “How much?”
Trent was dropping the three coppers she asked for into her outstretched palm when Kerry spoke up, “Maybe another color, Trent. That one… it doesn’t go with your ribbon.”
Trent touched the blue tie woven in his hair. “That’s alright, I'll cut my hair when we rest later.” He unwrapped his new scarf reluctantly and put his cowl back on. Nodding his thanks to Felicia, he stuffed the scarf into his pack and started off.
“Trent, listen to me, it’s the wrong color,” Kerry pleaded. “It’s pink, Trent, pink! You hear me? It’s for girls. You can’t wear that around me, not where other people can see! Are you listening?”
Maryann leaned back on her blanket and shot a glare at Felicia. “You cost me ten and made yourself three, I hope you’re happy.”
Felecia didn’t listen to Maryann's complaints any more than Trent listened to Kerry’s. Her hand had closed so tightly around the three coppers that her knuckles turned white. “He’d never seen a Shard, but he's gotten a Core from a low-level Beast. Unless he was lying, that means…”
“What are you babbling about over there?” Maryann stretched her legs out, disturbing one of her piles of shards. “No one’s going to buy these, are they? You scared off my only potential customer. Hey, where are you going?”
Felecia was hurriedly packing up her scarves and stuffing them into a bag. “They don't lie, they don’t need too!”
She ran off towards the Trial the second her goods were tucked away, with Maryann calling after her, heedless of the people she jostled as she went.
**********
“The color isn’t important,” Trent insisted. “I've seen Adventurers wearing worse. None of them seemed to care.”
“They don’t care because good gear is worth putting up with some ugly.” Kerry rolled his eyes. “But that scarf isn’t enchanted. It won’t save your life. It might even attract trouble if some jerk sees you wearing it. It’s pink, Trent, pink!”
The wall that separated the Trial’s entrance from the town proper was made from wood rather than stone. More a fence than a defensive fortification, its purpose was decorative. It was there because people liked to see a wall between themselves and a den of monsters. Kerry had pulled Trent to a stop outside the gate to make one last try at getting Trent to see reason.
“Hey, Kerry, and… Kerry’s friend, wait up!”
The last person Kerry expected to see again so soon was Felicia. At first, he didn’t recognize her. Her pointed hat always partly covered her face, but for reasons unknown, Felicia had added a veil to her attire since the market. Her distinctive black robe and conical hat were enough to tell any who knew her who she was, so Kerry couldn’t see a reason for the veil and almost thought she was someone else.
“Felicia? What’s with the veil?” Kerry’s puzzled tone quickly turned excited, “Never mind. Since you’re here, Trent wants to exchange the scarf he bought. Maybe for a grey one, or black. Black is good, too–"
“Shut up, Kerry.” Felicia pushed the Warrior aside, or tried to. Failing to shift a half-ton of metal and flesh, she squeezed between the arguing companions, forcing Trent to step back. “I want to delve with you guys. You'll need me.”
“We will? Why?” Kerry shared the same question that fell from Trent’s lips, but he was feeling too insulted to voice it. Why was every girl in Bellrise picking on him lately? He had been punched, insulted, and now one tried to shove him!
“Because Kerry is a Warrior and you’re no Mage.” Felicia drew a deep breath and laid out her reasoning, “I know Minor Heal, and several effect Spells for powering a party or weakening an opponent. More the former than the latter. I also own a Storage device that will come in very handy, and all I ask is that I am given the majority of any crafting materials that drop.”
“Just that, huh? Gods, it’s like you’re offering your services for free,” Kerry said sarcastically. “And we have a Storage device of our own. Did you miss the pack Trent is holding?”
“You mean the sack with the wooden handle sticking out of it?” Felicia’s head turned slightly so she could eyeball Kerry from within her veil. “That’s no Storage device.”
“Wrong!” Kerry announced, missing how Trent shuffled his feet guilty. “I've seen Trent using it; it’s definitely a device.”
“I
don’t know what you’ve seen, but it’s not what you think!” Felicia said primly. “Do you see any runes stitched on the sides or bottom? No. Can you feel any magic emanating from it? No. It could be a high-class device with the enchantment hidden, I suppose. If that were the case, the handle wouldn’t poke out. It is not a Storage device.”
Kerry wanted to refute her claims more than almost anything else in the world. But she was a Mage, she should know about magic items, and he hadn’t been able to figure out how Trent’s pack worked when he tried to find Trent’s shirt for him. “You can tell all that just by looking at it?”
“No, I'm a Mage Apprentice, not an Enchanter,” Felicia confessed. “I saw him buy it, and Jake Carter sells leather sacks, not devices.”
Two hits in a row nearly sent Kerry to his knees. He could have taken Felicia's confession or that Trent had been fooling him, but put together, it felt like the whole town was set against him.
“My secrets are laid bare for all to see,” Trent said ruefully. The words were right, though he couldn’t say why they sprang to mind. “We still don’t need you.” He only needed to touch an object to put it in Storage. The pack disappeared from his back without him moving.
“You have Storage. That’s unusual.” Felicia reorganized her arguments and tried again. “But still no Healer, or Mage, I can fill both positions.”
“We have potions for Healing, and from what I've heard, we're not likely to need them or a Mage in this Trial,” Trent answered. He wasn’t opposed to bringing Felicia along, however. “I have my own use for the crafting materials. The price of your company is too high.”
Felicia’s eyes bulged. She had personally witnessed Trent paying twice, if not more, for what his purchases were worth. Trent had paid a silver for the bag he’d made vanish. A silver for an item that he didn’t need! The crafting materials she wanted in exchange for her services were worth no more than a few coppers a bundle.
“I have a Specialized Class, Mage Apprentice,” Felicia said after a deep breath, “I deserve a larger cut of–"
Kerry tapped her shoulder. “He's a Swordsman, with Detect Traps and Leadership. You’re not going to impress him by comparing Classes.”
“You can come with us if you like,” Trent said, shrugging and turned to walk away. “But all drops will be split equally.”
“Drops, split equally,” Felicia repeated slowly. “What about materials gathered other ways?”
Trent came to a sudden stop, causing Dreq to run into his leg. He turned back around. He felt a sudden urge to drive this Mage off. Her and Kerry. They were slowing him down, and with every step he took, it seemed like they saw through him more and more. All while remaining a complete mystery to him themselves. He accepted Kerry’s company because the Warrior was in no way a threat, and that logic could be applied to this new Mage as well, but their intentions, their reasons for wanting to join him, were hidden. The people he had known and trusted hadn’t wanted him around, and now strangers latched on to him at every turn!
“Strength in numbers,” Trent whispered. Clenching and unclenching his fists, he looked down at Dreq, who rubbed up against his calf comfortingly.
“You know that I have Mining?” Trent asked, thinking of the pickaxes whose handle had been visible in his pack.
“I think you have Harvesting,” Felicia corrected. “Am I wrong?”
Trent spun on his heel. “You keep what you kill, or in case of Harvesting, what you cut off yourself.”
It wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear, but Trent left Felicia no chance to argue. He did not owe her anything, and he and Kerry had already intended to delve with just the two of them. She could come up with a dozen reasons why they should beg her to come along, but whether she did or not, it wouldn’t affect their plans.
“He’s different, not like us Academy students.” Kerry cleared his throat as Trent made his way through the gate and up the hill that lay inside it. “I’m just starting to see it myself. I think if he went in solo, he’d be fine. He doesn’t need us. Not for the Dungeon, anyhow.”
Stepping carefully around the stymied Mage, Kerry hurried to catch up to Trent. Felicia opened the invitation in her Status that Trent had sent her. An invitation to join the party.
She touched the tip of her ear as she thought about Trent’s violet eyes. She wouldn’t get what she wanted if she followed him, and everything in her said Trent was dangerous. Harvesting and the chance to obtain things she needed to raise her crafting Levels had prompted her to chase Trent and Kerry through the market, despite her instincts.
A new thought compelled her to accept the invite. A thought that was like the one which kept resounding in Kerry’s head. There was an opportunity here. Perhaps not the one she wanted, but maybe, more than she could imagine. Pulling her hat firmly down around her ears, Felecia decided she had to find out what gave Trent the confidence to say he didn’t need a Mage. She beat Kerry up the hill to the Dungeon entrance in her haste.
Twenty-Eight
A boulder twice as tall as a man sat atop the hill inside the fence. Rounded up high and flaring out at the bottom, the bell-shaped rock gave the town that had been built around it a name. The crack in the center of the boulder that led inside was what gave Bellrise its purpose.
The Sergeant on duty at the Trial was enjoying a relaxed, lazy day. A guest instructor sent from Al'drossford had taken a large number of the Academy students for special training, and those left behind weren’t entering the Trial today. It was nice to have a break from the mobs of young Adventurers clamoring to get inside, and the Sergeant intended to take full advantage of it.
It was hard to take this post seriously. The Sergeant was a serious man, not given to slacking, but since the Academy was sponsored by the Duke and allowed any team with the Detect Traps Skill to enter for free, he rarely had anything important to do. His days were filled with waving Adventurers through rather than collecting fees and keeping order.
He’d dreaded it when he heard of the guest instructor’s plans at first. Lieutenant Craw from the Scouting Regiment was putting all the school’s Rogues through some pretty intensive training, by all accounts. Lacking their free ticket to delve kept all the other students away. Not that the Sergeant enjoyed listening to baby Adventurers going on about their exploits, but it did make the day go quickly, and in his own way, the Sergeant missed the noise.
He had learned to adapt. Leaning back in his chair, with his hands behind his head and his feet on the table, the Sergeant let the morning sunlight play across his face. His eyes were shut, and he was on the verge of drifting off for a short nap. He wouldn’t want things to stay so tranquil forever, but a week of nothing to do wasn’t bad.
The nap almost claimed the Sergeant when a soft cough had him bolting upright in his seat. He blinked his eyes and tried to keep the surprise from his face when he found an Adventurer in white and black leather armor standing in front of him. A chainmail shoulder guard, black gloves, and a black, masked cowl completed the Adventurer’s look, and that look was unsettling to the Sergeant.
His normal customers looked more like the two that were still trudging up the hill, students who had poor equipment that they were still growing into. He vaguely recognized the Mage and Warrior approaching, and this ghostlike figure that had snuck up on him had nothing in common with those two.
“You’re no student,” the Sergeant said to fill the awkward silence.
“No,” Trent agreed. He pointed back at Kerry and Felicia. “They are.”
“Hey, Sergeant Gaffney!” Kerry greeted the Trial’s minder amicably. He leaned his shield against the table and stretched his arms over his head as high as his armor would allow. “Slow day?”
“Kerry,” Sergeant Gaffney dipped his head to acknowledge Kerry, trying to restore the internal equilibrium that Trent had disrupted, “Slow doesn’t cover it. You three are the only people I've seen all day.”
Gaffney nodded a greeting to Felicia as well. She noticed that he did
n’t call her by name as she gave a small wave. She tried not to take it personally. Kerry knew everyone, and everyone knew Kerry. That was how things were. Kerry would have been one of the more popular students at the Academy if not for one bad decision. She, on the other hand, tended to keep to herself.
“I'm surprised you’re here at all,” Gaffney continued. “No free rides with all the Rogues and Archers occupied.”
The Sergeant didn’t blanch as he remembered that Kerry normally paid to enter the Trial. It was a close thing. His lips tightened as he recalled why Kerry was not only an infrequent delver but also one of the worst equipped Adventurers the Sergeant had ever seen.
“Got that solved, Sarge.” Kerry tried to slap Trent on the shoulder and swiped at the air when he missed. Trent, hearing the word “Sarge,” had taken a large step back and was staring at a passing cloud like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
“Uh, my friend here isn’t a student, but he has the Detect Traps Skill. Is that alright?” Kerry gave Trent a look, confused as to why he was suddenly pretending that Kerry didn’t exist.
“It’s not quite proper. For you, maybe I can make an exception.” Gaffney took a closer look at Trent, placing his hand on the pouch at his waist. “What’s your name, lad?”
“Trent Embra.” Trent’s voice was sharp, his reply quick as he answered. He, in no way, wanted to be caught up in the trouble Kerry might have caused by uttering the forbidden word.
“I see.” The Sergeant’s hand dipped into his pouch, where a folded piece of paper lay. “Can you prove you have the Detect Traps Skill, Trent?”
Trent’s gaze drifted to the right and he lifted his hand to point. “Tripwire, ten feet from your chair, with a pitfall beyond it. The pit has an… acid trap?... at the far edge. Except someone’s replaced the acid with water or something. That’s probably not enough, is it? The traps aren’t very well hidden. I don’t think you need a Skill to spot them. Do you need to see my Status?”