The display popped up, letting him know that he replenished both HP and stamina, and was set for the day. Though it was a little late for breakfast, Alejander took the meat out of the dresser. It was still good, and he chewed on it as he dressed, looking out of the window. The forest itself already seemed to be alive; he could see shapes moving amongst the trees, something to be wary of, and there were various travellers up and down the path, some standing outside of the inn and yelling back and forth.
It was a lot of noise and activity in one place, and Alejander was ready to be out of here.
Downstairs, both Andretta and Dander were already busy, the former weaving her way through two tables, tankards clunking together in her hands. Dander was pouring three more mugs of ale. The bar itself was much busier than the night before, and Alejander was only too glad to be leaving.
“Thanks!” He yelled loud enough that Dander could hear. The dwarf gave him a stiff wave and then turned back to the patrons. As he passed Andretta, he kept his thank you a little quieter.
“Hope to see you back,” Andretta said, a little breathless, but her smile was genuine. “If you happen to travel past again.”
“Perhaps,” Alejander allowed, though he doubted it. There was so much of the continent to explore and too many people to make that a safe thing to admit.
Outside, the air was fresh and humid, though warm enough that he could leave his cloak off. The sun was starting to rise above the tree line, and as Alejander approached the stable, Dander’s son saw him coming, immediately darting back inside. He returned a few moments later with Greta, already saddled.
“That was quick,” Alejander said.
“I did it an hour ago,” the boy admitted. “Thought you might just be eating breakfast.”
Alejander said nothing but did thank the boy as he took the reins.
“No problem,” the boy said. Then, with an expression a little star-struck, “I always wanted to be a rogue.”
“It starts with stealth,” Alejander said, sounding to himself like an idiot, but the boy nodded along.
Only too happy to mount and get away from the inn, Alejander arranged his things across Greta’s flank and swung up into the saddle.
“Take care,” he said quickly, and without waiting for a response, urged Greta into a gallop back the way he had come the night before. He headed for the signpost, determined to find his way to the nearest trading post. He didn’t know what his things were worth, but coin couldn’t hurt, and perhaps someone there would be able to point him in the right direction of making actual money.
There was a path to the left that he hadn’t seen last time and he turned Greta onto it, the trees sparse this side of the forest. They thinned out the further he rode until the trading post was an obvious jut against the horizon. Like the inn, it was misshapen, floor stacked upon floor almost as if each had been an afterthought. A staircase wrapped all around the building, separating off to give access to each floor. Alejander was afraid that anyone stepping upon it would cause the whole building to collapse beneath them.
The outside was brightly decorated, however, appealing in ways that the inn had not been, and there was a huge banner on the outside saying WELCOME TO KLISTER-DALLEN TRADING POST!
There were two guards stationed outside the building, and another two set off to the side where a hitching post and a paddock were located. Tied to the hitching post were two horses that looked more like destriers as they were decked out with armor. Inside the paddock, he could see a turtle fitted with saddle and reins, and what seemed to Alejander to be a purple ostrich. They were a bizarre choice of mount, though, given the races in the game, Alejander shouldn’t have been surprised.
As he rode closer, the guards watched him, one of them giving him a salute, the other gripping their shield a little more tightly.
Greta snorted, nostrils flaring, and Alejander could see a stable hand carrying two sacks of what he assumed was feed.
“Hungry?” Alejander patted her neck, dismounting awkwardly. Perhaps when he would have gained more skills would he show a little more elegance getting off his horse.
The stable hand had a handkerchief stuck in his back pocket, and a hat tipped sideways on his head. As Alejander approached, Greta’s reins tight in his hands, the stable hand gave him a bright smile.
“Alright. Come for some trading?”
Alejander nodded. “Can I leave her here?”
“Sure!” The stable hand’s attitude was as bright as his smile. “There’s a couple of copper in thanks, but I’m paid by the trading post, so as long as you trade something, you’ll pay your way.”
It was an interesting system. “What about the people who don’t trade?”
The stable hand shrugged. “Some take advantage, but most people who come here have something, even if it’s just antlers or meat.”
Alejander managed to cover up his own wince, noting that the things he himself had to trade were at the lower end of the scale. “Her name’s Greta.”
“Greta,” the stable hand said, rubbing at Greta’s neck gently. “I’ll take good care of her for you.”
“Thanks,” Alejander nodded his head, and waited only long enough to see that Greta was taken care off and headed for the main entrance of the trading post. This was new territory and he had no idea what to expect. The guards gave him a narrow look, but they didn’t stop him from entering the foyer.
Inside, the building was even more lavishly decorated than the outside. There were hangings everywhere, depicting various emblems that Alejander didn’t recognize. There were traders set up around the room, some with carts laden with goods, others set back into little alcoves in the walls. There was a blacksmith, a swordsmith, and someone working with a table full of potions. It was a hive of activity; despite the lack of mounts outside, several people were haggling with traders, others were set away from the main hub, chatting amongst themselves.
Alejander’s hand twitched, as if to protect his purse. He managed to refrain; he didn’t want to give away where he was protecting his money. He was probably being overcautious, but then you can’t be a thief and not think about other thieves looking to rob you clean.
Scanning the carts, he tried to find one that would be amenable to purchasing his antlers.
The stairs that he had seen outside were twisting ungainly from the center of the room, one set circling down into a basement, and another heading up onto the second level. Though Alejander couldn’t find anywhere that detailed what was above, he decided to check it out. It would stand him in good stead for the next time he approached a trading post, providing they were all laid out the same.
As Alejander rounded the staircase, he could see another entrance the other side. It was more heavily travelled, and he realized that the forest must have been the back of the trading post. From what he could make out through the doors, there were two more paddocks, a trading cart set outside that a crowd had gathered around, and more guards. He would check that out on his way down.
Next to the front entrance, there was a booth like the one in Klister, this one manned by a couple of winged creatures. He didn’t know what they were and made a mental note to ask someone or check. It would do him good to brush up on the other races and classes in the game. The more information he gave himself, the better off he would be.
The stairs were a little steeper, and as Matthew it might have been a challenge to get up them, but with Alejander’s younger and more agile body, it didn’t take long at all. The second floor was as busy as the foyer, with more stands and some more alcoves.
The higher that Alejander climbed in the trading post, the more selective the floors became. It seemed as if each class had their own section of a floor, specific to items they solely had access to. At the foot of the stairs, on the fifth level, he could hear voices and shouts filtering down from the stairs, and as he approached, craning his neck to look, he could see podiums akin to those in an auction house.
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br /> Auctioneers were standing behind their podiums, all of the various races, and though Alejander couldn’t see exactly what people were bidding on, it fascinated him enough that he hovered on the fringes of the crowd, watching the shouts of gold and silver amounts until the gavel would fall. Perhaps he would find something worthy of an auction.
The seventh level was a bank. A vault stood in pride of place against one wall, and though it didn’t look as if it could hold much at all, there was a registration desk manned by a gnome. He was settled on top, legs crossed, a book resting on his knees.
“Excuse me,” Alejander said. He would need a bank vault at some point if just to hold money he hoped would accumulate. “How do I open a vault?”
The gnome looked up at him, glasses perched on the edge of his nose, and he sniffed. “’Ave you set this trading post as your hub?”
“No,” Alejander said slowly, elongating the vowel. He had no idea how to do that.
Rolling his eyes, the gnome jerked a thumb down towards the lower floors. “Bottom floor, info desk. Set up this trading post as your ‘ub and it’ll give ya a vault automatically, see. Then you give me your code and I let you ‘ave access.”
Alejander thanked the gnome, who immediately went back to his book, waving a hand absently. The rest of the floor was mostly empty, but for a couple of elves exiting the vault, lockboxes in their hands.
There was another staircase, gilded with vines twisted around the bannister, and Alejander headed for it, brow furrowed. There didn’t seem to be much noise coming from above.
“Oi!”
Looking back over his shoulder, Alejander could see the gnome on his feet, hand twisted around the book, eyes narrowed.
“Where do you think you’re goin’?”
“Up there,” Alejander said, pointing to the staircase.
The two elves exchanged a look and sighed before heading down to the auction level. Alejander frowned.
“Don’t think so,” the gnome said. “That’s for people of level 10 and above. You wanna go up there, you earn your way like everyone else, alright?”
“Alright,” Alejander said, holding up his hands. “What is it, anyway?”
The gnome muttered something about beginners under his breath and dropped back down onto the desk, legs stretched out in front of him. He gave Alejander the once over and sighed. “It’s the Urbane Bank. The one you reach when you ‘ave the ability to trade for real cash.”
Finally, Alejander thought, some hint of what was to come. “So that’s where you make it.”
The gnome snorted. “Yeah, not much on the outside. Only know ‘cause I’m in ‘ere. You want access, you get to level 10 and come back. Then you get exclusive access.”
Alejander wanted to ask so many more questions, but he supposed even someone that knew what the floor was about – and had to prevent people from accessing it before their level – would only know so much. “Thanks for your help.”
“No problem,” the gnome said. “Though if I were you, wandering around the forest ain’t the best place for a rogue. Stick to the dungeons.”
“I’ve heard that.” Alejander thought of Sardonya, who had told him the same.
The gnome said nothing more, turning back to his book, though his eyes darted up as a human woman, a bow strapped to her back, and decked out in leather armor, strode into the banking area and demanding access to her box.
“Politeness don’t cost nothing,” the gnome said, as Alejander headed back down. His last view was of the gnome pulling a face at the ranger’s back and he smothered a laugh. Despite his gruff nature and less than stellar example of language, he was an alright gnome.
Back in the foyer, Alejander paused before heading for the info desk. Looking down into the basement, he could hear the clink of glasses and the yelling that indicated another tavern, though this one busier and louder than the inn he had stayed at.
Not interested in getting stuck in another bar with so many people, he waited until the line at the info desk had cleared and made his way over. Up close, he could see that both humanoids were the same. They had wings that settled close to their backs, horns that jutted out from wavy hair, and a tail that curled around their lower legs. Their skin was tinged green, and when one lifted their head to smile at Alejander, he noticed they had sharp canines and yellow eyes, almost catlike.
“Hello,” the creature said, tilting their head. “How may I be of assistance?”
Alejander cleared his throat. “I have a question, but I wondered if you didn’t think it rude, what kind of creature are you?”
The creature laughed, a soft huffing sound, and tapped a long, lithe finger against the desk. “I chose Sylvaer, a race of woodland creatures who possess the ability of flight.”
“You’re beautiful,” Alejander offered because they really were. He wasn’t sure he would have chosen it for himself, but he could appreciate when it suited someone.
The Sylvaer inclined their head. “Thank you. My name is Orwaithor. What question do you have?”
“On the bank level, with the goblin,” Alejander said, waving a hand towards the staircase. “He told me I could come here and set this trading post as my hub?”
At the mention of the goblin, Orwaithor sighed deeply but nodded. “I am aware of who he is.”
Bending down beneath the desk, Orwaithor rooted around and came up with a small box. Inside was a blue stone that seemed to give off a little arcane energy. It was smooth and fit into the palm of Orwaithor’s hand.
“This is a teleportation stone,” they explained, handing it over to Alejander. “It is set to bring you back here. You must tell it you wish to teleport, and it will bring you here. Though,” they added, “if you teleport during the middle of a fight, you will lose all experience but still retain any hit point and stamina losses.”
The stone was bigger in Alejander’s smaller palm, but heavy. The blue seemed to shimmer, and as Alejander rubbed his thumb over the swirls across the top, it thrummed in his hand.
“Thank you,” Alejander said, frowning at his pouch. It wasn’t quite big enough to hold his stone as well, so either purchasing a bigger pack was in order, or he’d have to do some reshuffling.
“There is also this,” Orwaithor said, holding out a coin. Unlike the money, this was hexagonal and had a hole drilled through the center. “This is your bank credit. It will allow you to open your vault upstairs.”
Looking it over, Alejander could see a series of symbols across the top and assumed that was what set his vault apart from the others.
You have received: Teleportation Stone
Durability: 10 {Replenished at Trading Post}
Usage: Once per day {Recharge 8 hours}
Quality: Excellent
You have received: Bank Credit
Durability:
Usage: Infinite
Quality: Excellent
Orwaithor placed the box back under the desk and gave him a nod. “I hope this has been helpful.”
“It has,” Alejander assured him. “One more question, though. Do you know where I can trade in some antlers?”
With a tilt of his head, Orwaithor narrowed their eyes and gave Alejander the once over. “Level?”
“Uh, me or the antlers?”
Orwaithor laughed again, this time a little higher. “The level of the creature you slay.”
“Level two,” Alejander told him.
“Here,” Orwaithor said, sliding over a piece of parchment. This looked like a floor plan of the trading post, akin to something Matthew had once picked up in a museum, and he cursed himself for not thinking like that. It would have saved him a lot of walking upstairs for one. “For all things bone – which includes antlers – you’ll want the third floor. If you manage to strip the beast of its skin, you can sell them on the same floor, to either a tanner or, if it’s tanned, to a leatherworker or tailor.”
Alejander took the proffered paper and fold
ed it up neatly. “Thank you again for your help, Orwaithor.”
“It is what I am here for,” Orwaithor said again. “Though not always.”
It was Alejander’s turn to laugh. He didn’t think he could ever volunteer to work at the information desk, though he had to wonder if the players got paid for it. It would be the only sane reason to do it. Unless he reasoned, they were just terribly nice.
There were benches scattered about the foyer, and though most were taken, he slipped onto the end of the nearest, close to collapse from the weight of the troll-like man sat upon it. He gave Alejander a cursory look but turned back to his bag. It looked too large to be of any use to Alejander, though his small pouch wasn’t doing much for him now. Smoothing out the floor plan, he picked out a bag merchant on the second level, rubbing at his jaw as he contemplated some of the prices he could be charged, and whether he had the funds to purchase it. Though, given that it was a trading post, perhaps they would be willing to take his old pouch and give him a little coin off the newer one.
Sacrificing his water bottle was out of the question, and he had no doubt that he would need the teleportation stone, so a new bag it was. Besides, he could gauge prices a little better, something that would come in useful when he was out on the road and trying to decide what to carry.
The second floor wasn’t as busy this time around, the left corner even more so. The alcove that the bag merchant had claimed for their own was chock full of bags of all shapes and sizes, some hanging in bunches around the walls, others scattered on shelves behind the merchant’s front desk.
Scanning his eyes over the bags available, there was a small leather satchel that was slightly bigger than the one Alejander currently possessed, but wouldn’t get in the way of his fighting, or encumber him much when he was trying to move swiftly. The bag merchant was human, a woman with short cropped hair and leather pants and tunic.
“The name’s Helena,” she said, leaning on the desk. “What can I get ya?”
“I was wondering,” Alejander said, gesturing to the pouch on his hip. “Would I be able to upgrade this for another?”
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