Wow! That was an amazing quiver! As long as I had at least one arrow, I would never run out. Even if I did run out, the price of refilling my entire supply would only amount to the cost of a single arrow. The ‘over time’ caveat told me the regeneration would not be instant, and I could still run out in the heat of battle, as I had almost done just before. But even still, this was an awesome reward.
“I can see by the look on your face that you truly understand the value of what I’ve given you.”
“Yes, I do,” I said, reluctantly adding, “It almost seems like too much.”
“Aye,” he replied. “Might be at that. That quiver belonged to my great aunt. She was a fine archer and served in the ogre campaigns. The quiver’s been in the family ever since she passed. I’m the last one now, and I’ve got no one to pass it on to. You’ve done me a great service, and you seem like someone who might have need of such a fine quiver. Better you have it than some stranger picking over my things when I’m dead.”
“Thank you,” I said sincerely. “I will do my best to honor your aunt.”
“You know,” the farmer replied with a smile. “I think you just might.”
12
I decided to keep to the forest trail on my way back to town and avoid traveling through the woods as I had done on the way out. While I was ecstatic over my new quiver, I was still quite exhausted from the fight and my struggle skinning the worg, and I was simply unwilling to exert the energy required to travel tediously through the forest to practice my Stealth skill. However, I didn’t pass up the opportunity to make the most of the time by keeping up Perception and trying out my new Tracking skill on any promising looking prints I came across. I also made good use of the time by testing the properties of my new quiver.
The Quiver was full of very high-quality arrows that were far better than the ones I had been using. So, before setting off, I emptied out my old quiver and filled it with all but one of my new, higher quality arrows. I placed my old quiver, now nearly full of the better-quality arrows, into my backpack so that I not only had a ready reserve of ammunition stored away, but I would also be able to find out how long it would take for the Quiver to generate new arrows.
Staying on the trail made the return trip much quicker, and I felt like I was back in town in no time. Looking over my shoulder, I noticed that the Quiver was once again filled with arrows, which let me know that I could count on it to replenish my supply of arrows from just a single shaft in only a few short hours—this new quiver was already proving to be quite a useful acquisition.
I quickly made my way to Marli’s, as I was both anxious to receive the new cloak she had promised and was also hoping there might be some other rewards for completing my quest. Although I had tried to pull the quest up in my UI, unfortunately, just like the community page, it was no longer accessible. I presumed that it was most likely gone forever.
Before going inside, I remembered that I had pending notifications. I figured I should check those quickly and then take a look over my character sheet. This way, I would be able to tell exactly what rewards I received for completing Marli’s errand.
Experience gained – You have gained 350 XP.
Unlocked skill discovered! You have discovered the Survival sub-skill Identify Creature (Beasts).
Unlocked skill discovered! You have discovered the Survival sub-skill Skinning.
Unlocked skill discovered! You have discovered the Survival sub-skill Field Dress.
That wasn’t too bad. I had unlocked an entirely new skill tree, Survival when I had discovered Tracking, and my encounter with the worg had added three more skills to that tree. My clumsy efforts at removing the worg’s pelt and canines had obviously unlocked the Skinning and Field Dress skills but Identify Creature (Beasts) was odd—it was the first skill I had gained with a qualifier. I could only assume that there were other creatures to identify; ones that were something other than ‘beasts.’ There certainly wasn’t anything ominous about that.
When I finished contemplating my notifications, I pulled up my character sheet to have a quick look.
Dreya Dae
Human Female
Level - 1
700/1200
Health 120/120 Aura 280/280 Endurance 120/120
Class – Warden – Wardens gain a 10% bonus to skills associated with nature or which have natural effects
Specialization –
Mastery –
STR - 12
CON - 12
DEX - 14
INT - 12
WIS - 12
CHA - 16
Abilities
Ignore Armor – Your next arrow will ignore a portion of the target’s armor. Cost – 20 Aura. 1%
Stun – Your next arrow has a chance to stun its target on hit. Cost – 20 Aura. 5%
Spells
Skills
Bow – 15%
Critical Hit – 10%
Armor – 3%
Medium Armor – 4%
Perception – 13%
Environmental – 16%
Identify Enemy – 5%
Identify Person – 3%
Subterfuge – 5%
Stealth – 7%
Manipulation – 7%
Persuade – 8%
Barter – 8%
Survival – 6%
Tracking – 5%
Identify Creature (Beasts) – 1%
Skinning – 2%
Field Dress – 1%
I was happy with my improvements—stealthy traveling was definitely slow, but the gains to my Stealth, Perception, and now Tracking skills made the effort worthwhile. I was surprised that I had gained anything at all in my Armor skill, as I hadn’t been hit or even been in range to be hit. I could only guess that wearing it, both in general and in combat, had been responsible for the small boost. Satisfied, I closed the UI and strode into Marli’s shop.
“Hello!” She exclaimed. “Back so soon? Are you alright? I had thought it might take you at least a couple of days!” She peppered me with her questions before I could respond. Her eyes showed a mixture of emotions, and among them, I detected hints of both concern for me and anxiety over her ‘materials.’
“Relax,” I said, trying to calm her down. “Everything went well. The beast is dead, and your farmer friend said to tell you he will be here tomorrow with your ‘materials.’” I added little air quotes, but I didn’t think Marli understood their implication.
While I was talking, I unslung my pack, and when I drew forth the ragged pelt, I dropped it on the counter in front of her with a sickening, wet ‘plop.’ As it oozed blood onto the surface, I explained the filthy mess that I had deposited in front of her.
“As a matter of fact, here’s what is left of the beast responsible,” I said with pride. “Although, I admit to doing a rather poor job skinning the creature.”
As Marli carefully unrolled the hide, her eyes widened as she took in the full measure of its size.
“You killed this monster? By yourself?” She asked incredulously.
“Yes, I did,” I responded, somewhat defensively. I wasn’t sure whether she was questioning my honesty or my ability, but I wasn’t happy about either option.
“What makes you think I didn’t?” I added.
“This is a worg—a very large worg. At this size, likely the alpha male of his pack. One new to the adventuring life, such as you are, would have to be quite lucky to kill a beast such as this. To be blunt, such a feat is well beyond your capability. Even accounting for your... special circumstances.”
She had made a good point. The worg was positively huge and clearly quite powerful. I had no doubt that in a fair fight, it would have slaughtered me with ease. But it had not been a fair fight… the beast had been practically crippled when I found him. Not only that, but I had been able to attack it in surprise, catching the creature as it slept. I had known that good fortune had played a large role in my victory. Marli’s assessment made me understand that luck had actually been t
he deciding factor.
Sitting down across the counter from her, I told Marli the tale of tracking and finding the worg, how it had been previously injured, and how I was able to kill it. She nodded in understanding when I was done, and the highly implausible scenario finally made sense to her.
“I see,” she said. “It likely received its previous injury in a fight with a rival alpha male. Unable to hunt for itself, it turned to preying on helpless creatures to survive. You did well, Dreya—now it’s time for your reward.”
Marli motioned for me to remain seated as she got up and went to retrieve my promised reward. She returned quickly, holding a bundle of brown fabric in her arms. With a flourish, she unfurled the cloth and presented it to me.
It was a cloak, as she had told me, made of soft wool. Although it was not heavy enough to be overly warm, it was still substantial enough to keep its wearer comfortable in cool weather. It was medium-brown in color overall, but with subtle variations throughout. Looking at the mottled pattern, I could easily imagine how the slight color variations would help conceal someone in the dense undergrowth of a forest. Marli helped me secure the cloak to my shoulders and showed me the clever way it fastened around my quiver, providing unhindered access to my arrows. Once it was in place, I took a moment to admire my new cloak. It was a great addition to my gear, and I was very glad to have it.
Ding!
Oh good. I assumed that notification was my quest completion, so I quickly pulled up the message to see what I had earned.
Quest completed — You have slain the dreaded beast terrorizing the farmer’s livestock. You have been rewarded with 200 XP.
And there it was. I had gained an extra two hundred XP. It did seem odd that the quest reward was less than the XP I gained from killing the worg, but I decided against trying to unravel the logic of the magical quest rewards system at that moment.
Closing my sheet, I looked back to Marli. Her eyebrows were arched, and there was a knowing look on her face—she had obviously noticed my distraction and recognized it for what it was, the habit of a Deathless. I made a note to be careful about just where and when I pulled up my UI or checked on my notifications.
Ignoring the awkwardness, I reached into my pack and withdrew the canine teeth I had cut from the worg. Placing them on top of the pelt, I addressed Marli as if nothing had occurred.
“So, I have the pelt and canines from this powerful beast; what will you pay me for them?”
Our discussion went back and forth for a short while, and I came away from the negotiations with two silver Marks and a field dressing kit, complete with a real skinning knife. My basic camp knife was simply not up to the precise work of skinning and dressing animals, so I welcomed the additional gear. Besides, if I wanted to improve on my skills, or even eat any game I might kill, I would need the proper tools. Leaving Marli’s shop, I was quite happy with the bargain we had struck.
Before starting the journey back to town, I had stopped to consume some of my trail rations. Although I was starting to get hungry again, I decided to wait before having dinner just yet. I wanted to return to the tavern for my evening meal again that night since the food was really good—better even than the fare at the inn. I figured I could also pick up some extra travel rations as well while I was there. In the meantime, I wanted to see the blades Georl had spoken about. I still needed some backup weapons, and you can never have enough good blades.
Georl wasn’t at the counter when I entered the shop, and a young apprentice was apparently tending the place. He looked at me quickly, then smiled before motioning for me to wait while he walked into the back of the shop without a word.
Almost immediately, Georl came out from the back of the smithy and took the apprentice’s place.
“You have returned,” he said happily. “Your blades are ready, and I hope you will be pleased with them. I apologize for the delay… I had actually finished them yesterday, but when I saw you in your armor, I realized that you needed something better than a simple sheath—something subtler, yet still quick to draw.”
With that said, he produced a neatly rolled leather and metal belt that held two fine-looking daggers.
The belt and daggers looked very well-made, but I was confused about how it was meant to be worn. Georl seemed to read my expression perfectly.
“May I?” He asked, with a gesture that clearly indicated his request for me to allow him to demonstrate.
“Yes, of course,” I replied with relief.
It was a bit unsettling for a moment as the half-orc approached me and began to fasten the dark leather harness around my waist. He proved yet again to be the perfect gentleman, however. His ministrations were strictly professional, and his hands never strayed where they shouldn’t. He finished quickly, and I took a moment to admire his work.
The belt, or half-belt more accurately, attached to my lower back and was fastened to the cinches on the sides of my leather armor. It was almost unnoticeable from the front, especially with my cloak in place. Inside their sheathes, the daggers were discreetly hidden behind my back, yet their hilts were within easy reach of either hand. Georl gave me a nod, prompting me to test the draw.
With a soft scrape of metal against leather, the blades released quickly and effortlessly. I practiced the draw a few times and gained confidence in them quickly. I immediately saw just how useful these blades could be in a fight.
“Georl, my friend,” I began. “These are amazing. I cannot even pretend to want to barter with you for them. Name your price.”
Georl smiled at me broadly, baring his disconcerting canines once more. I wanted to tell him not to do that, but I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“Dreya, I thought you understood. Your agreement to have dinner with me at the tavern was payment enough.”
His generosity was impressive—the blades were truly well-crafted, and he was clearly a gifted smith. The ingenious belt was finely made as well. I had no idea of their true worth, and I was grateful he had decided to make a gift of them to me—I wasn’t sure I could have afforded them otherwise. Instead of arguing the point, I accepted gracefully.
“Thank you, Georl. I am flattered that you think a little of my time is worth such a fine gift. Perhaps I should let you take me there again next week,” I added playfully.
I thought his eyes were going to fall out of his head at my suggestion. I instantly regretted my jest.
“I... um… that is to say,” he stammered.
“Relax. I was just teasing you, Georl. I didn’t seriously think I could rob you blind with a series of friendly dinners,” I said, jumping at the opportunity to correct my mistake. I was going to have to be a little more careful with my words. For some reason, people seemed to jump to the wrong conclusions much too easily with me.
“Oh, yes, of course not. That would be ridiculous,” he recovered.
We shared a quick laugh, and I thanked him again before leaving, promising to return again if I needed anything else.
As I left Georl’s shop, I spied a man across the street in front of the seedy general store, staring at me. It was the same greasy-looking bigot that had been watching Georl and I the night before in the tavern. He was leaning his burly frame against one of the porch columns, looking at me with a hateful expression that I could not fathom—I didn’t even know who this idiot was. What could possibly make him so belligerent towards me? Before I could react, he spat in my direction and then sauntered off inside the shop.
The situation with the strange man was odd… Was it possible he recognized me as one of the Deathless? Maybe that was it. There was little else for me to go on, and I really didn’t care either. If he wanted to act like a jerk, I wasn’t going to let his shitty attitude get to me.
A soft growl from my stomach reminded me that it had been some time since I had last eaten, and I was getting quite hungry. I decided to drop off some of my unnecessary gear in my room and then head over to the tavern for dinner.
The inn w
as crowded as usual, and I had to practically fight my way to the stairs. Once I was back in my room, I began to lighten my load a little. I had initially planned on leaving all my armor and weapons behind, wearing only my regular clothes, but I had become so enamored with my new cloak and the daggers Georl had given me that I chose to keep them with me as well.
After locking the door behind me, I left the inn and made my way over to the tavern for dinner.
When I arrived at the tavern that night, I noticed the sign out front for the first time—I hadn’t been paying attention and had overlooked it the night before. The large placard was inscribed with the words ‘The Golden Table,’ and depicted a shining gold-colored table carved in the wood. Interesting.
There was a decent-sized crowd inside, but the place was far from packed. Once I was seated, the waiter, the same one we had the night before, told me the selections for the evening’s meal. They all sounded quite good, and with my enhanced sense of taste, I knew that whichever one of them I chose, it would be delicious. Eventually, I decided on a pleasant-sounding lamb dish that was supposedly a regional specialty, along with an amber ale to wash it down.
Unfortunately, when the waiter stepped away, I noticed the angry man was inside the tavern as well, staring at me again with his hateful expression. If I had not already placed my order, I would have simply gotten up and left. Fuck him and his issues, I thought to myself. I was here to have a good meal, and he would just have to get over it.
The waiter soon returned with my order, and I forgot all about the idiot staring at me. The food smelled amazing and tasted even better than I thought it would. The meat was delicately spiced, and the roasted vegetables served alongside were full of intense flavor, so I savored every last morsel before treating myself to a second ale when I was done.
Second Skin: Fractures Page 11
