by J. T. Wright
“Trust me, Trent!” Arden assured him. “Money isn’t a thing I lack. You could pull out a whole Elwire tree and…” Trent began to re-shoulder his bag. Arden’s words suddenly reminded him of Martin’s.
“Hold on! Don’t be so hasty.” Arden rushed forward to grabbed Trent’s arm, only to snatch his hand back when Dreq snapped at him. “I do have money! I swear it, maybe not enough for a whole tree, but I'm funded, well-funded!
“At least for another year.” Arden sighed and ran his hands through his hair, causing his frizzy mop to stand on end. “Let me be honest with you Trent. I'm not a Blacksmith.
“But I can be! I will be!” Arden declared, eyes glowing with a manic light as he shook his fist at the air. “They say it’s not possible but they’re wrong. You’re an innovator, Trent, so you can understand! You can help me! With enough practice, enough materials, and hard work, anything is possible!”
“It looks like you have plenty of materials already,” Trent nudged half an iron ingot with his foot.
“Low quality junk, that’s all the Adventurers bring me.” Arden kicked the same ingot, then hopped in place, cursing as the metal refused to move. “I place Quest after Quest, and what do I get? Level 1 Iron. Half the Adventurers in Bellrise don’t have the Mining Skill, and none of them have the Profession! They’re just wasting my time!”
“Because they don’t have the Miner's Profession?” Trent thought of the pickaxe and the Skill he intended to level using it and began wondering if his plans were worthwhile.
“Don’t play the sly Dog with me, Trent,” Arden said, wagging a finger “You know as well as I do that only Miners can find high-quality ores and gems. And those with just the Skill are lazy! They don’t look for the ore; they just stumble on it and hack out a few pounds to sell. Leaving me stuck with junk and common ranked Skill Stones to work with.”
“You work with Skill Stones? Can those be mined? What about Spell Stones?" Trent’s plans underwent a drastic change as visions of Fire Spells hidden in rock filled his mind.
“Be serious, Trent, don’t tease.” Arden sighed wearily. “I buy Skill Stones to combine with my weapons. I have barrels of the things; no one else wants common ranked Stones. So far, it hasn’t worked, but I know how it’s done. One success, just one, and I'll learn the Smithing Skill, or at least Weapon’s Crafting.”
Behind his mask, Trent bit his tongue. He had so many questions! Questions he couldn’t ask because doing so revealed his strangeness. Kerry had looked at him as if Trent had lost his mind when he asked about the Questing Pillar.
Setting Dreq at his feet, Trent reached into his pack and took out a chunk of Elwire from his Storage. Pulling his arm back to reveal the wood, Trent held it just out of reach of Arden’s trembling fingers.
“Not enough for a spear, but it will do for a sword hilt,” Arden swiped at the hunk of wood as he muttered. “I’ll give you ten silver an ounce, and a discount on the finished product!”
“I'm not selling,” Trent hid the wood behind his back, “but I'll trade it for a Basic Spear Skill Stone and a tier-one Fire Spell.”
“I don’t have those!” Arden wailed. He nearly burst into tears when Trent dropped the precious item back into his pack. “Don’t be hasty, Trent! We've just begun to haggle! I don’t have Basic Stones or Spells, but you can take any Common Ranked Skills I have, and twenty silver an ounce.”
Trent almost leaped into the air at the realization that what he was doing was haggling. Pressing forward with this new information, he said, “Basic Spear and tier-one Fire Spell. That’s what I need.”
“Think about it, Trent.” Arden tried to put on a reasonable expression. “That wood could make me a Blacksmith. A Blacksmith indebted to you. Isn’t that what every Adventurer wants? Thirty silver an ounce!”
“I am thinking about it, Arden.” Trent tossed the wood up into the air and watched Arden’s eyes follow it. “And I think you need me more. Not only for the wood but because I have the Miner Profession.”
The Elwire fell into Trent’s hands, and Arden's jaw dropped to the floor. “Really?”
“Really,” Trent repeated. It cost him 100 XP and a moment to manipulate his Status to make the words true.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Hello. How are you? Where are you from? Fine weather we're having, don’t you think?” Kerry kicked at the ground as he muttered to himself. He wasn’t going to see Trent again. All because instead of gradually building the conversation, he’d drove straight into, “Hey, let’s explore the Dungeon!” and “What’s your Class, Level, and why don’t you know the things you should know?”
Tomorrow? Yeah right! Kerry wouldn’t show up to meet someone as pushy as he had been. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking. Had he even told Trent anything about himself? That was what he should have done. Offer a stranger something of yourself, and they’ll respond. Where had he heard that? Somewhere… maybe in the headmaster’s speech at the beginning of the term?
Making his way to the Lucky Pig, Kerry rehearsed the proper way to make a friend, out loud, not caring that his mutterings drew concerned and suspicious looks. People made way for the fourteen-year-old Adventurer, partly due to his size, mostly because of the storm cloud that covered his face and the nonsense that spilled from his mouth. Arriving at the tavern, Kerry took a moment to lean against the outer wall and bang his head gently against it. An act that did not reassure the crowd that was watching him.
With a sigh, Kerry resigned himself to his fate and walked through the open door of the Lucky Pig. He hadn’t exactly lied to Trent when he said the Pig was a popular gathering place for local students. Students did meet here, four of them, on a daily basis. Just because the majority preferred the brightly lit and festively decorated Guildhall, that didn’t mean there weren’t those that liked the dank and gloomy bar.
Though ‘liked’ might be a strong word. It was necessity that drove Kerry and his teammates to the Lucky Pig. They were no longer welcome to mingle with students at the Guild. A certain misunderstanding between the party’s leader, Jace, and every Rogue in the Academy, had resulted in virtual exile for the group of four. No one wanted to associate with a person who had accused a quarter of their classmates of theft.
Kerry knew he didn’t want to. Unfortunately, he had obligations. Grimacing at the stale smell of ale and vomit that greeted him, Kerry walked to where he knew he would find the others. They always sat at the same table when they could. It was in the darkest corner, far enough away from the bar that on busy days, the waitress might never make her way to it. Jace had declared it to be his table, and it took rougher men than the local laborers to remove the best Warrior at the Academy.
Kerry tried not to step in the puddles of what was mostly alcohol as he weaved between the tables. He bumped into chairs and drunks as he went, mumbling apologies. The tavern was not crowded, but he wasn’t light on his feet, and he drew more than a few angry glares. No one confronted him, though, one of the benefits to a barrel-like torso and arms like tree trunks.
“You’re here,” Jace’s clear voice cut through the gloom of the Pig as Kerry pulled out a chair and sank into it. “You’re two cups behind, and unless you have coin, you’ll have trouble catching up. We're all out.”
Kerry tossed a silver piece onto the table. “For the purse. I don’t have any for drinks.” He bit back a sigh as a glimmer of dissatisfaction crossed Jace’s bright green eyes. The black-haired youth with the chiseled jaw snatched up the silver coin and made a show of dropping it into a pouch he set on the table.
“Well, that brings the communal pot to two silver,” Jace grumbled. He turned the pouch over, and the mentioned coins fell out. He pushed them towards a cloaked figure on his right. “And now you can afford to take the Traps course again, Silas.”
Silas, the party’s archer, pushed back his hood revealing a pale face. Long fingers closed around the two coins and deposited them in a pocket in his cloak. “I've already taken it four times. Why
don’t we save for a Skill stone? Shouldn’t cost more than ten or twenty.”
“It was forty last time I saw one for sale, and that was over a year ago,” Jace shot back. “Damn Rogues buy them quick, and if they don’t, the Guards do. Drives up the price.”
“You'd learn it if you applied yourself.” Kerry was surprised to hear Holly chide Silas in her crisp but soft voice. The Mage usually kept to herself, preferring her own thoughts to chatting. She was a pretty girl with long brown hair that she wore in an intricate braid. Dressed in a silver robe, with a heart-shaped face and clear blue eyes, Kerry had had a crush on her at one time. That had faded once he got to know her.
“If it was easy to learn, the Stones wouldn’t sell so fast.” Silas leaned back and propped his feet up on an empty chair. “You are welcome to crawl through the weeds looking for wires and holes if you want. Say the word, and the coins are yours, Holly!”
“I met someone with the Detect Trap Skill today,” Kerry interrupted the brewing fight before it could start. “He might join us for a delve.”
Two sets of interested eyes pierced him, but it was Jace’s disdainful ones that Kerry watched.
“New student? Archer or Rogue? I'm not working with a Thief!” Jace declared, slapping the table.
Kerry considered his reply while staring at the empty purse Jace had left on the table. It was the third such pouch he had seen during his tenure with this group. Jace claimed the others had been stolen. It was more likely he had lost them. No Academy student was bold enough to steal from a classmate, and more experienced Adventurers were not interested in taking the meager earnings of a Wood Ranked team.
Their party was in this spot, both financially and physically, because Jace refused to see things that way. It wasn’t possible for him to lose the team’s savings! They had been stolen! He reported the theft to the Academy’s Headmaster, but without proof, nothing happened. That did not stop Jace from accusing every Rogue he met until no one would work with him.
“He didn’t say, but he could be a Hunter. He had leather armor and wore two knives. Had a Dog for company,” Kerry wove his explanation carefully. If he could get the others to agree to work with Trent, and Trent to agree to work with them, all the while telling them he was a Hunter, Kerry’s day of shoveling dung would be over, at least for a while.
“Hunter is a Specialized Class. Why would he want to work with us?” Silas picked up his empty mug and peered into it seeking a last sip or drop and finding it dry.
“Good question,” Holly murmured. “You Basic types are useless.”
Silas bristled and opened his mouth to retort to the Mage’s insult. Kerry headed him off by raising his hand and bellowing for the barmaid. A haggard woman with suspicious eyes approached the table and raised an eyebrow at Kerry’s call. He quickly set five coppers on the table and ordered three ciders and a cup of water.
Jace watched the woman sweep the coins into a pocket on her stained dress. He stared as she walked away to fetch Kerry’s order, but it was Kerry that Jace addressed in a pleasant tone. “Thought you didn’t have coin for drinks, Meat? The communal purse is empty. The charter says–"
“It wasn’t empty when I sat down.” Kerry grimaced at the nickname Jace threw at him. He was more than a meat shield! He dug another ten coppers out of his purse and slid them to Jace before the party’s charter could be mentioned again.
“I have my own expenses, and I'm allowed to keep half my earnings for those,” Kerry said bitterly as Jace counted out the coins and dropped half into the communal purse. Kerry didn’t know why he bothered. One round would turn into two, and the group would be broke again.
“Didn’t you work for old man Petrive today?” Jace played with the five coppers in his hand while pinning Kerry with his eyes. “That pays more than a silver and ten. The charter says– "
“I know what the charter says!” Kerry clenched thick stubby fingers and met Jace stare for stare. “My armor needs repairs, and I have tuition due. The new term starts in a week.”
All strictly true, but that wasn’t how Kerry had disposed of what was left of the day’s earnings. The majority of his three silvers had been placed in his Guild account for safekeeping. The charter that kept him from lying to Jace would have compelled him to give up a second silver if he carried it with him.
Jace might have pressed the issue if the barmaid had not returned just then. Kerry had never been so pleased to see the wrinkled face of the woman. She looked especially beautiful as she set mugs before the group, sparing Kerry’s ears from any more mention of the charter.
“The charter says,” was Jace’s favorite way of starting a sentence when he thought Kerry was being mulish. As if Kerry needed to be reminded of what the charter said. He bleeding well knew what was written on the thrice-damned thing! He had read it very closely.
He had memorized the charter, the day after he signed it. That was the day the Academy lecture was on magic contracts, how they were useful, and why you needed to be careful of them. Kerry’s ears had burned through that entire speech. While the rest of the class yawned and daydreamed of more exciting topics, Kerry had soaked up every word.
A charter allowed parties to share XP without needing the Leadership Skill. It insured fairness and equal distribution of loot. It could also permit a group of strangers, brought together temporarily, to trust one another implicitly, or make a group of friends operate more efficiently.
A charter could also compel a naïve Adventurer to invest all his Free Attribute Points into Strength and Constitution and dictate that his training be devoted to defensive Skills. It was a policy that had puzzled Kerry until he realized what it meant. It had taken him months of working with Jace to figure out the end goal.
All chapters had an escape clause, an essential element for the magic to work. Otherwise, it would just be slavery, and that kind of dark enchantment took considerably more power. Jace had set their escape clause at a buyout of three gold. Kerry had nearly fainted when he read that fine print. It would take him years to save up a single gold, considering how much coin he contributed to the party. By the time his Guild account had three gold in it, Kerry’s Skills and Attributes would be so messed up no other group would have him.
Jace took a long swallow from his cup and smacked his lips appreciatively. Kerry didn’t know why. The cup was dirty, and the lightly fermented cider it contained was sour, with an aftertaste that lingered for days. Jace, Holly, and Silas drank it like it was the finest wine and often poked fun at Kerry for sticking to water.
“This Hunter, what’s he asking for the delve? Will he sign the charter?” Jace set his mug on the table and wrapped both hands around it.
“I don’t know.” Kerry pushed his own cup away. He had ordered the lukewarm water, but that didn’t mean he had to drink it. The cup was as unwashed as everything else in the Lucky Pig, and several small bugs were doing laps in the liquid.
“I'm meeting up with him again tomorrow, I'll sound him out then.” Kerry had to word his next sentence carefully. “I wouldn’t bring up the charter though. He's skittish.”
“Aren’t all Rogues, the dishonest bastards.” Jace drummed his fingers against the side of the mug before taking another drink. “Well, find out what his Class is. As long as he’s not a Thief, we'll work with him. Call it three days from now but don’t make any promises. If Silas picks up Detect Traps, this mystery man of yours signs the charter, or he's on his own.”
Kerry experienced an interesting mix of emotions after Jace made his decision. He wanted to cheer at Jace’s agreement to work with Trent and had to fight to keep a grimace from his face at the Warrior’s arrogance. Jace just assumed everyone should be honored to join his team.
**********
You are now a Level 1 Miner. +2 to Strength.
You are now a Level 1 Herbalist. +2 to Wisdom.
Name: Trent Embra
Title: Shadow Hunter
Age: 12
Race: Al’rashian
Level: 14
Sub Level: 2
Class: Survivalist Level 3
Class: Swordsman Level 11
Profession: Miner Level 1
Profession: Herbalist Level 1
Health: 630
Stamina: 630
Mana: 130
Strength: 39
Agility: 34
Dexterity: 40
Constitution: 12
Endurance: 3
Intelligence: 13
Perception: 2
Wisdom: 15
Free Attribute Points: 0
Free Skill Points: 11
Professions were weird. Sergeant Cullen hadn’t talked much about them, and neither had anyone else Trent had known, leaving him puzzled at the new additions to his Status. What was a Sub Level? Why didn’t he get Free Attribute Points for picking up the only Professions available to him?
There were no new Skills or flood of knowledge that came with the Professions, only two new Quests. The strange thing about these Quests, Mine Ore and Gather Herbs, was that from what Trent could tell, they would only reward XP to the Profession that generated them.
Trent closed his Status and reached for a handful of dried branches he had gathered. Tossing them on to the small fire he had built, Trent held his hands in front of the flames. The warmth tickled the skin of his bare palms and face, and Trent batted at the flickering light, trying to catch the edge of dancing flames that were too weak to penetrate his fire resistance.
