by Thad Ward
Ike considered. “NPC demand? The NPC who runs this shop will pay something for them.”
“Right you are, Ike,” Fu said. “The same applies to any item you buy or sell. Some merchants sell the same thing for less. They’re just harder to find. And some things that may seem worthless most places can still fetch a price with the right buyer if you’re willing to put in the legwork.”
“That tip alone is probably going to save me a ton over time,” Ike said, impressed. “Okay, quid pro quo.” He looked around and found a rack of jewelry. He held up two different teardrop earrings, one crystal and one amber. “Now, ignoring the materials, what looks different to you about these? And don’t cheat by guessing based on their values.”
Fu took the earrings and held one in each hand, looking back and forth between them. “There’s a marking on the amber,” he said. “A rune? Is it magical?”
Ike held a hand to cast a shadow over the amber earring. In the dimmer light, it showed a faint inner glow. “Bingo,” he said. “Most enchantments change the appearance of the item subtly. Runes are pretty common and they typically reflect the nature of the enchantment.” Ike tapped the amber earring. “I’ve never seen this one in particular, but I’ve seen others like it. It has something to do with light.”
Ike and Fu continued in this manner for more than an hour. Fu received his notice first. “Isaac… Fennell?” Fu said, showing all of his teeth. “I can see your window! It’s smaller than a character sheet, though, and it says my Identification skill isn’t high enough to gain information.”
Ike nodded. “I’m pretty sure it’s level-based. I’m level two, so level one Identification will only tell you my name. You should get the class and race of anyone first level, though. Sometimes it’ll tell you special qualities, too, like a monster’s damage resistance.”
“That’s okay,” Fu said. “The name is the most important part to me anyway. I don’t do a lot of fighting.” Fu took out a large cooking knife and examined it. “Hm, seeing durability will be handy, too.”
Ike got his skill notification a few minutes later as he listened to Fu explain the difference between low-quality and high-quality stitching. “So an unfinished hem is a bad sign, you can feel a difference in fabric quality, and the stitching matters. If you tug at a seam and see light through it, it’s probably lower value,” Ike summarized as he examined a wool shirt.
You have learned the skill: Appraisal 1
“Whoa!” Ike said, holding the shirt a little farther away in surprise. “The value showed up on the item window. Fifteen? Fifteen what?”
Fu smiled. “Well done. Don’t fret over the meaning too much. It only matters for comparison purposes. Each of the different coins has a value, too, so you’re always exchanging something of value for something else of roughly the same value. Haggling is just convincing the other person to accept a slightly lower value. Trading is just finding items at bargain values and reselling them where their value is greater.”
Ike put the shirt back on the rack. “And everyone who can’t even see the value… they might as well be blind.” He gave Fu a serious look. “Thank you, Fu. I’m glad I came to you first before trying to sell our loot from the dungeon.”
“Any time, my friend. It was a good trade for both of us,” Fu said with a bow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on my suppliers.”
“Expect me at your stall tomorrow,” Ike said as Fu departed. This time, it was his turn to beam a wide grin.
Ike looked through all of his belongings, mentally noting their values. “First thing’s first,” he said to himself. “I need to find the best deal on these gems.”
It was fascinating to note the fluctuating values of his treasure as he walked through town. More common items like his clothes, satchel, tinderbox, and water jar didn't vary much at all. His bat and shield seemed to have a high but volatile value, probably due to their enchantment; he guessed they’d be next to worthless otherwise. He wasn’t surprised to discover that his Appraisal skill wasn’t high enough to display the value on his topaz ring, though he couldn’t be sure if it was because of its higher quality or just because it was jewelry.
Most of the gems weren’t as valuable as Ike had hoped. They were mostly ornamental: Agates, malachites, bloodstones, and various shades of quartz. “Probably for the best,” he noted. “If they were rarer, I probably wouldn’t be able to appraise them.” He opted to carry one of the more valuable gems around as he walked, using the fluctuations in its value as a metal detector.
It took better than half an hour of walking before Ike noticed a sudden increase. He glanced around expecting to be near a jewelry shop and saw a tailor instead. “Giovanni’s garments,” Ike read the shop’s sign aloud. He walked closer and watched the higher value on the gem remain steady. “Why would a tailor pay more for ornamental gems?”
As Ike entered the shop, the answer became clear. The interior was posh and impeccably clean. Rather than racks of common staples, wooden mannequins displayed full outfits, each unique and extremely high end. Many of the garments sparkled with beads, sequins, and small gemstones. “Oh dear, you look lost,” said the man behind the counter, a bespectacled older gentleman whose own attire matched those on display. “Can I help you find something?”
Ike glanced at some of the outfits, noting that his Appraisal skill wasn’t high enough to evaluate any of them. “Actually, no. I thought you might be interested in some ornamental gems I recently acquired.” He proffered the gem in his hand for inspection.
Giovanni looked Ike up and down once, clearly assessing but not showing any outward judgments. He adjusted his glasses as he looked more closely at the gem. “You have excellent timing, sir. I have several urgent commissions and my supply of surface ornamentation is dire. I will pay you well for all that you have.”
Ike walked out of the tailor’s shop with a self-satisfied grin. He could have made out like a bandit but hadn’t wanted to gouge Giovanni too hard. It wasn’t right to rake someone over the coals like that, and besides, he might have business with the old tailor in the future. Just the same, he was more than pleased with the transaction.
“Okay,” Ike said to himself. “Half of that is Ada’s. If I add the other half to my total and set aside, say, thirty knights for basic living expenses, I should be able to spend…” The total was generous if not everything Ike had hoped for. Still, with what he had learned from Fu, he should be able to stretch it considerably.
Ike had been putting off purchases until he had a proper budget to work with. All the same, he'd been literally itching to get out of the dead thief's clothes, so his first stop was a clothing store he'd spotted off the beaten path. The prices were middling and the quality seemed above average, but he was mostly interested because it catered to travelers.
Ike disenchanted his cowl, stowing the excess mana by enchanting glowing coins, then sold it along with his tunic and breeches. He walked out wearing a clean white shirt with a lace-up front, dark blue cotton pants, proper underclothes, a leather belt instead of a tied rope, and a small belt pouch with a clasp and several compartments sewn in for organization. He splurged a bit on a gray wool cloak but opted to keep his old boots; they fit well enough and there didn't seem much need to upgrade them.
Now that he had a base from which to work, Ike went looking for armor. As Fu had advised, the prices at the armorsmiths were noticeably lower than the armor shops on the main thoroughfare even though they sold the same merchandise.
Ike was dismayed at how little armor he could wear with his dismal Might attribute. He eventually discovered that a chainmail hauberk was his upper limit, then decided to layer several pieces of lighter armor instead so he’d have more items to enchant. He left the shop wearing a brigandine coat with chainmail sleeves, a single metal pauldron, a set of wool chausses over his pants, and a pair of studded leather bracers on his forearms.
Ike was pleased to be wearing proper protection, but he was equally pleased to have go
tten a good deal on most of it. The coat was much cheaper than the rest because the stitching was a garish yellow color, something he didn’t like but had an idea of how to fix. The pauldron and bracers were both damaged and awaiting repairs; two quick castings of Minor Repair rectified that on the spot. He’d only paid full price for the chausses, and they weren’t very expensive anyway.
Next was proper weapons. Here Ike was surprised to find that the best deal in town was a secondhand shop near the square. It wasn’t that Fu’s advice had been wrong; it just didn’t factor in Ike’s ability to magically repair equipment. There were a variety of weapons on offer, all of which were in a state of disrepair. Luckily, this meant that the owner wasn’t picky, offering up a scant few coins for Ike’s bat and shield after he harvested the enchantments from them.
Ike’s low Might score was also a problem here. Most of the heavier weapons, like battle axes, were right out, and he was just below the requirements for many of the normal-sized swords, too. He considered ranged weaponry but decided against it, both because he had no real-life experience with archery and because Ada had that pretty well covered. As true in life as it was in roleplaying games, being a good team member meant synergizing, so he wanted to focus on weapons that would be a good complement to Ada’s style.
In the end, Ike chose a partisan as his main weapon. It was much like a spear with a flanged blade at its head intended for parrying. At almost two meters, it was longer than he was tall, but it had the advantage of simplicity and its reach would allow him to attack trapped enemies from a safe distance.
Ike opted for a Celtic-looking short sword with a leaf-shaped blade and horseshoe-shaped crossguard as his backup weapon, making sure to barter a proper sheath from the shopkeeper. He barely met the Might requirement on both weapons, meaning he’d have to drop the idea of using a shield.
“Ike?” came Ada’s voice as Ike stood in the street.
Ike had been leaning on his polearm and rummaging in his new belt pouch, ascertaining the hit to his budget. “Oh, hey Ada,” Ike said with a tired smile.
“Where have you been?” Ada asked. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Now that I think about it, I probably passed you a few times. You look like a whole new person.”
Ike smiled and fanned his arms out, putting his outfit on display. “What do you think?”
Ada tilted her head and rubbed her chin. “It’s a big improvement. You look like you’re ready for an adventure. You also look a lot like the other players in town. That yellow looks awful.”
“Ah, I’ve got a plan to fix that,” Ike said, raising a finger. He checked the sky and verified that it was nearly dusk. “Care to go eat at the Weir Crest for dinner?” He realized how his question sounded and panicked, waving his hands in front of him. “Not like a date or anything.”
“Sure,” Ada said. She laughed slightly but the smile on her face was warm. “At least Maisy’s cooking is edible, if unavoidably Scottish.”
When the two entered the tavern, several patrons were exiting. The man Ike had seen unconscious was up and bussing plates and cups off several tables. Maisy was behind the bar cooking. Something savory was sizzling on the pan in front of her.
Dusty stepped down from the stage. She saw Ada and Ike as soon as they walked in. “My my,” she said, looking him up and down with the fingernails of one hand fanned over her chest. “You dress up nice, Ike, but your color coordination is atrocious.”
“Actually, I was hoping I could pay you to help with that,” Ike said. “Did we miss the show?”
“‘Fraid so,” Dusty said. “That birdie of yours was a godsend. Got a bigger crowd in here than I’ve managed so far. Still nowhere near a full house, though.” Dusty cast a cautious look behind her and leaned in to whisper, “Nobody wants to come to a place with lousy service, lousy drinks, and lousy seats.”
“So I’m guessing you two know each other?” Ada interjected.
“Right,” Ike nodded apologetically. “Ada Rose, this is Dusty Knees. She’s an elven glamorist. I gave her my songbird to help advertise her drag show. Dusty, this is Ada. She’s a highlander trapper with aspirations to be a bounty hunter. We’ve been questing together.”
Ada’s face flashed with an amused look when Ike mentioned the drag show. “Nice to meet you, Dusty,” she said. “I’m not sure what a glamorist can do, but you sure fit the name. I absolutely love your dress.”
“Oh, you think I’m glamorous?” Dusty said, flashing a toothy grin. “You ain’t seen nothing yet!” She twirled and, as she did, the sequins changed from orange and red stripes to an aquatic blue and turquoise pattern. Dusty tossed her blonde hair, turning it a pale shade of green to match the dress.
Ada’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped as she clapped her hands excitedly. When Dusty finished, Ada let out a squeal of delight. “Oh my god, can you do that for anything? I’ve always wanted to be a redhead!”
The two began chatting excitedly. Ike could see the writing on the wall and excused himself to order food. He’d spent most of the money he’d budgeted on new gear but still had plenty left for the rest of what he wanted to buy as well as the thirty knights he’d set aside for basic living expenses. He opted to order three plates from Maisy, making sure to ask her for water rather than ale. He beckoned the girls over to the table as Angus brought out the food.
“Oh, how thoughtful,” Dusty said, sweeping her dress to sit down. “You didn’t have to buy me dinner too, Ike.”
“I’m buttering you up,” Ike said with a wink. “I don’t like this yellow stitching any more than you two, but it was cheaper.” He dug into his food. It wasn’t much: Overly-salted hash, a hunk of rye bread, mashed potatoes, and some sort of light orange side dish that tasted like turnips crossed with cabbage. He wasn’t fond of it, but it was hearty and he was famished after all of his shopping.
“You don’t have to do that,” Dusty said, eating hers as well. Ike imagined she’d grown accustomed to the food spending so much time here. “You gave me the bird, after all.”
“Sure, but that was a gift,” Ike said through a mouthful of hash. “I don’t expect anything for it.”
“A gift, huh?” Ada said. She sniffed uncertainly at the orange side dish before taking a bite. “Where’s my gift?” she teased.
Ike laughed. “I haven’t found the right one yet, but I hope this will do.” He reached into his pouch and passed over her share of the gems’ sale price.
Ada looked impressed as she pocketed the money. She was about to speak when Dusty interrupted. “I’m confused. Are you Mr. Moneybags or a dude in discount rack armor?”
Ada laughed before explaining, “He sold some gems for me. This is a lot more than I expected, though. Thank you.”
“Fu had a hand in it,” Ike said. “He taught me Appraisal and I taught him Identification. It took a bit, but we both walked away happy. We can thank him together tomorrow.”
“Ike, I’m starting to think helping folks out is your day job,” Dusty said, biting into her rye bread.
“It is his motif,” Ada agreed. “He was offering to help me finish my quest within the first five minutes of meeting me.”
“Girl, me too!” Dusty said.
“I get the sinking feeling that introducing you two was a bad idea,” Ike said wryly. “Even so, guilty as charged. I was just thinking I may be able to help a little more. I have spells to repair and reshape things, so I can probably fix the place up a bit tomorrow.” He gestured broadly at the whole room. “It suits my plans anyway. I’m not sure what to do about the service or the drinks, though.”
Dusty nodded. “I’m thinking those two problems are related. If we can keep Angus sober, he can make up for the fact that Maisy’s half deaf.”
Ada raised a hand so both Dusty and Ike looked at her. “I may have something for that. I spent some time reading through my alchemy book. There’s a pretty simple recipe for a potion that’ll make the person who drinks it immune to alcohol for a few days. All we have to
do is get him to drink it.”
They all looked over at Angus, who was cleaning tables and downing a customer’s mug of half-finished ale when he didn’t think anyone was looking. “That won’t be a problem,” Ike said.
“Okay, two out of three,” Dusty said. “And if we’re going for temporary solutions, we don’t need the drinks to stay better. Maybe we can just get someone to sell drinks the night of the show.”
Ada looked at Ike meaningfully. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Ike nodded. “I’m sure Fu would love the chance to make a few coins. But Dusty,” he turned to the drag queen with a teasing grin, “none of this will matter if your show is a dud.”
“Good sir!” Dusty said indignantly, standing and looking down her nose at him, her hands planted firmly on her hips. “Do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks!” A sudden bass like thunder boomed through the room. Ike looked for the source to see the songbird perched on the mantle. “For I am Dusty Knees, the queen of Weir! All hail my charisma, uniqueness, nerve, and talent!” She let out a throaty cackle like the Wicked Witch of the West.
Ada doubled over in laughter. “Oh yeah,” she said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I need to see this.”
Dusty sat back down, smiling appeasingly at the shocked expressions of everyone else in the room. “All fun aside,” she said. She straightened her hair. “Why do you want to help little ol’ me?”
“Because it’s fun,” Ike said with a shrug. “This is a game, right? Gold and experience points are nice and all, but they’re just a means to an end. If you’re having fun, you’re doing it right.”
“I hate how right you always are,” Ada said to Ike. She turned to Dusty. “So what do you say? Partners in crime?” She put her hand in the middle of the table.
Ike put his hand on hers, trying to ignore the fact that it was his first time doing so. “We’ve already proven we make a good team. No reason to change a winning formula.”
