by Eric Ugland
“As always. You can have all but the two I’m keeping.”
He nodded once.
“Now,” I said, “I need a wardrobe, Gideon.”
Gideon nodded once, and a figure ran to the back of the store. It whipped a hunk of canvas off of something tall and rectangular. It was, in fact, a wardrobe.
“Mahogany,” he said. “Mancer-carved from a single piece from the Emerald Sea. Exquisite quality—“
I held up my hand as the little cloaked dude began his Vanna White routine, showing off the amenities of the admittedly nice bit of furniture.
“I meant clothes. I need clothes.”
Gideon coughed, and then did the slightest of waves with his hand. The figure in back went about covering the wardrobe back up, noticeably disappointed he didn’t get to do his thing.
Every trip to Gideon’s was stranger than the last.
“We have some items of clothing, a variety of styles from across the world. But perhaps it might be better to seek a tailor for something as this?”
“Yeah, that’s a good point. How about a singular outfit? Maybe some leather armor, a cloak, pants, boots, that sort of a thing.”
Gideon leaned over the counter and looked at my feet.
“We will offer you some choices.”
The figures swarmed, pulling open chests and crates and ripping clothes out. They were put in front of me on the counter, shirts above pants above socks or tights. Cloaks off to the side.
“We will offer armor after you select clothing,” Gideon said.
I just picked the nicest of the most average looking garments. Then, without asking any permission, I disrobed right there in the store, and put my new threads on. I took a dark green cloak, something that was nearly black. It was made of thick leather that had been oiled heavily to give it added protection from the elements. It had a nice big hood to keep my face hidden. Hats were certainly popular around the city as well, but I hadn’t gone down that route yet. I’d stick to hoods for the time being.
“For armor,” Gideon said as his nameless featureless underlings cleared the counter, “are you looking for something magical or mystical?”
“I mean, depends if it fits in my budget,” I said. “I’m not looking for magic necessarily.”
“We have something new,” Gideon said. “Different.”
“Sure,” I said, “let me see it.”
With a gesture, the creatures put a set of black leather armor on the counter. It was different, all right. I did a quick check of the armor.
Highwayman’s Leathers
Item Type: Rare
Item Class: Light
Material: DireBat leather
Armor: +22
Durability: Good
Weight: 13 pounds
Requirements: n/a
Description: Made from tough, flexible leather, the armor is dark as the night. It offers significant bonuses to stealth and hiding, as well as minor bonuses to recognition.
Seemed like it was going to be expensive. But I hadn’t spent much money on me yet, and maybe it was time for a little self-care. I pulled the armor over my head. It fit well. I did a little moving around to confirm it didn’t pinch or hold me back in any way. I especially liked that the armor had a high collar that, when straightened out, covered my face right up to my eyes. It was a bit like a built-in facemask. Which, I suppose, matched being named the Highwayman's Armor. At any point, I could flip the collar up and be disguised. Perfect.
"I'll take it," I said.
Gideon nodded. "We will deduct the cost from your credit."
I didn't want to know how much it was. I was just happy to afford it.
With new threads, magical coin pouches around my waist and a new sword sheathed on my hip, I was ready to go.
Chapter 164
I left Gideon’s shop feeling like I’d made out well for the first time since I’d met him. My clothes fit nicely, and helped me blend in with Glaton. I liked that the black leather armor was subtle, especially under the leather cloak. And in the rain, everyone was pretty much darting about under hoods or hats, avoiding the downpour as much as possible. Sure, I maybe looked a bit more severe than the average citizen, but I felt like that gave me the right vibe. Like I wasn't someone to be trifled with. Though the types of people who say things like "trifle with" are usually edgelord douchebags people would rather just avoid than trifle with. I wondered if there was a Glatonese equivalent to edgelord? I mean, it was pretty obvious that the Iron Silents fit that particular stereotype, so I'm assuming people would probably have a few choice phrases for those asshats.
Being that it was dawn, I hoofed it west to the Heavy Purse to get some breakfast and chat with Matthew.
I found him sitting at the end of bar, surrounded by empty stools. He was not a morning person.
I plopped onto the stool next to him.
He looked over at me.
"Busy night?" he asked.
"Not uneventful," I replied. “You?”
“Busy with the kids. Somehow they manage to be sleepy and cuddly all day, then rouse themselves for fun and games right when it’s time to actually sleep.”
“So now you’re just trying to pull yourself together before another fun day at the pit?”
“Lately, the pit has been the fun. So what kept you busy?”
“Kobolds,” I said.
"How many?"
"More than I thought."
"That's pretty much always the case with them."
"What's the, uh, status of kobolds?"
"In what capacity?"
"I mean, I had to save them from hunters who were going after them in the sewers, hence why they're here."
"When you say here—“
“I think they’re mainly going to live in the basement here, but I told Shae she could set them up in the apartments next door if she thought they needed the extra room.“
"The new building."
"That's the one."
“Why not the basement there?”
“I imagine they will,” I replied. “They’ve already got a tunnel between here and the bakery building.”
“You’ll find they do that. Big fans of tunnels. Not so much keeping things like structural integrity intact.”
“So we need to make regular inspections?”
“Definitely. As to the legality of our new little friends, my best answer is I don't know. Kobolds exist in a grey area. Certain groups in the Empire resist becoming standard members of society, and kobolds are one of them. They do their own thing regardless of what is, well, proper? Accepted? And they maintain their own nations, which have done battle with the Empire in the past. They haven't necessarily taken territory, but, by the same token, the Empire has yet to fully conquer them. This makes it difficult to trust them in the same way as elves, dwarves, humans, or races who've assimilated into society.”
"So I should probably talk to someone about the actual legal standing of the kobolds living with us."
"Probably a good idea. You can go to the Ministry of the Interior and ask there.”
“Just wander into the building? Find someone—”
“You go to the freaking information desk and tell someone you have a question about the legality of kobolds. They’ll guide you to an expert.”
“You can do that?”
“Do you know how many laws are on the books here? Neither do I. Neither does most anyone. So there’s an information desk at the Ministry of the Interior, and there are people paid to answer questions for you. Service of the Empire, paid for by your taxes. Now, how's that guild of yours coming.”
“It’s coming along swimmingly.”
"You ready to act on what I want?”
“I said I was, didn’t I?”
“You know what it entails?”
I nodded.
Titus chose that moment to slide over over and put a plate of breakfast in front of me.
"Good morning," Titus said.
"He's in," I said,
still talking to Matthew.
"I'm in what?" Titus asked.
“His guild," Matthew said.
"Oh, right," Titus said with a smile, leaning on the back of the bar. "I am."
"Your wife know about this?" Matthew asked.
"Sure."
"So that's a no."
"Not yet."
"She's going to be mad."
"Maybe, but I'm doing it for her. We're going to expand The Heavy Purse into the space next door."
"Yeah about that — do you know who's going to be living above you?"
"I didn't know that'd been decided."
"Kobolds."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Kobolds."
"Hey," I said, "let's ease up on the kobold hate."
"It's not hate," Titus said. “It's, I mean, Boris has been fine. But, and correct me if I’m wrong, we’re talking about more than just Boris. I seem to notice the s on the end of kobold and that means—"
“More than just Boris, yes.”
"They're just such an unknown," Matthew said. "That's the issue."
“There’s quite a bit about dealing with kobolds that’s difficult,” Titus said.
“I’m not talking random nonsense species-hate either,” Matthew said, “I’ve certainly run more than one of them."
"Like in a race?"
“No, dimwit, like getting information. They are remarkably good at sneaking in and out of places everyone else thinks are totally secure. But they also have a bad tendency to improvise and panic."
“Boris is definitely quick to freak out.“
"They exist in a perpetual state of fear. And usually hunger. I don't want you to think I hate kobolds, because I don't. I am just aware of the challenges that come with dealing with them. Their society has different morals, goals. It’s a different lifestyle, really.”
"Okay," I said, “but this seems pretty perfect. I need a spy network, and now we have a bunch of sneaky kobolds at the ready. Do you think you can run these new ones? "
"Maybe if I choose to join your criminal enterprise, I can look into it."
“Maybe?” I asked. “What the hell is this maybe crap? You said—“
“I gave you a list of things to do for me to consider it,” Matthew countered.
"You're undecided?" Titus asked.
"I am, as you should have been," Matthew replied.
"Bah, to be honest, I'm a little tired of this whole being on the straight and narrow thing." He leaned forward and continued in a whisper, "I'm not sure I’m cut out to be a civilian. I miss the backroom deals and the pizzazz of knowing a secret, you know? And with everything happening with the Emperor, it is not the time to be on the sidelines. Time to get back in the game. And you need to come too, Matthew."
"I need to know what this young elf is actually going to do with himself. And with us. Tying—“
"Tying? We're already tied to him."
"I'm right here," I said. ”I can, I mean, you can just talk to me."
"Meh," Titus said, "talking around you is better."
Matthew just grunted his agreement.
"The kid has been okay so far," Titus continued.
"He has, for the most part," Matthew replied. “But this guild thing—“
“The guild thing is happening,” I said. “Okay? And you’re going to join because I’m going to do all the random crap you came up with.”
“It’s not random crap,” Matthew countered. “These are the elements that need to happen so I know there’s more than just you wanting to run something. More than you wanting to be at the top of an organization. I want to know why we’re joining forces, okay?”
“Then agree to join, not just think about it.”
Matthew just glared at me in response. Then he looked over at Titus.
“This might be a moment for a private conversation between old friends, Clyde,” Matthew said.
“Fine. Sure. Whatever,” I said. “I need to talk to the government to get some clarity on our new neighbors."
“The kobolds," Matthew said.
Titus nodded.
“Did you think he meant Viggo?"
Titus shrugged. "Might be worth investigating."
"Who's Viggo?" I asked.
“I thought you were leaving,” Matthew said.
This time, I ignored him.
"Guy who likes to think he runs Old Town,” Titus said.
"Does he?" I asked.
"Depends who you ask and who you are."
"Well that's a remarkably unhelpful answer."
"He owns an impressive amount of the property in Old Town, and he tends to get his nose into other people's business more often than not."
“So he's going to be upset I bought these three buildings?"
"Curious, sure. Upset? Maybe."
"Would he be willing to sell me some of his buildings?”
"You want to buy more?"
"I mean, Matthew already said it: it might make sense to own this whole block."
Titus's smile grew, and he shook his head. "Kid's got plans."
“Plans are one thing,” Matthew said. “Results are another.” Matthew turned his gaze on Titus. "You know what Viggo has around here?"
"He's got a few of the buildings on the block, for sure. I know he's got the three on the far side, along Chiswell."
"The haberdasher?"
Titus nodded. "That's one of his. And I think one facing Milton."
"So four on this block alone?" I asked.
"He's ruthless."
"How did I snag these two then?"
"Because I brought them to you," Titus said. "I didn't feel like having that scum sucker for a landlord."
"Are there others who might want to sell?"
"Right now? Probably. I don't know about on this block, but certainly in this neighborhood. More will be ready to go if the throne stays empty.”
"Or if the fight for it heats up," Matthew added. Then he spooned the last bit of his breakfast into his mouth, and stood up. "Go and get your kobold talk out of the way. Once you get that done and you want to talk more, you know where I'll be."
"Any chance you can get started on that whole finding out who the Iron Silents are and where they like to hole up?"
"Not until I'm an official member of your guild," he said.
“What about the Faden?” I asked.
“What’s the Faden?” Titus asked.
“Someone who can teach me about magic,” I replied.
“I think I might know a guy,” Titus said, “might know a guy who knows someone like that.”
“Can you—-“
“Let me make sure I can deliver before I promise to deliver,” Titus said.
“You should be making him deliver first,” Matthew said. “Before you lean out into the world.”
Then he walked out of the Heavy Purse.
“What crawled up his ass?” I asked.
“Likely the same thing I’m hiding from," Titus countered. He'd grabbed an apple from somewhere, and was cutting slices off with his dagger before crunching on them. “His wife.”
Fantastic.
Chapter 165
There was something inherently unnerving about heading into the belly of the beast. Especially with a beast as massive and bizarre as the Bureaucracy of the Empire. I actually felt a bit apprehensive as I walked down the street. Or avenue. The admin buildings for the Empire were tucked below the Palace, and to the west of the Senate on the other side of the Via Praetorius. Prior to setting off, I’d made sure to set up the little talisman of character sheet blocking, making sure my character sheet would read as dull as the one Faulkner book I tried to power though. Then I wrapped it around my ankle, and hid it in my boot. No reason to wear magic jewelry on your neck if you can hide it. At least, that was my thought.
It was the middle of the day at that point. The sun still wasn’t shining, but the rain had stopped for a few minutes. It was a gross day, and I wasn’t looking forward to fall or winter
if this was the end of summer. It was already remarkably cold and wet. The people out on the streets seemed to be feeling like their city — gloomy and grumpy. And also wet. I walked close to the buildings, feeling a little safer having a wall next to me. I knew it was only a matter of time before the Iron Silents came for me: they knew where I lived, and they knew what I looked like. And they tended to hold grudges. They would come again. Hell, I figured they were already watching my building. Which meant they were probably somewhere nearby. Following me and trying to find an open moment to swoop in and attack.
And naturally, because I made that assumption, it was quickly proved incorrect.
Just as I made my way across the Via Principalis, the major east-west avenue, I realized there was someone walking quite close next to me. Someone wearing all black. With lots of leather.
And that someone was smiling a familiar smile.
Arthur, the leader of the Iron Silents, pulled a walking stick from somewhere and gave it a little twirl.
“I am oh so curious,” he said, completely conversational, “about how you did what it is that you did.”
“Trade secrets, I’m afraid,” I replied, trying to sound like I was completely at ease, even though I was doing my best to find a good exit strategy. “Maybe you tell me how you do that special thing with respawn points, and I’ll give you a hint.”
“I suppose that’s fair,” he said. “Though you’re not really in a position to make demands or requests of us.”
“Are you here to ask for your things back?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it. Some of the others might. They are quite upset with you. You did quite a smashing job embarrassing them. And tearing down what I thought was one of our better hideouts. That did sting a little. You’ll probably pay for that in some capacity. But you got your loot fair within the boundaries of the game.”
I gave the man a little nod for that touch of something that might be considered fairness. Still seemed pretty messed up, the whole business.
“You have some real talent, Hatchett,” Arthur said. “I am honestly impressed. At first, I only offered you a place within our ranks because of your, well, heritage. Hometown pride and all that. But I would be remiss to think you’re not one of the better rogues in the city. Though you seem in dire need of our assistance vis-a-vis leveling, eh?”
