Chapter 48 - Hard to Come By
Rake
“Of course we’ll split it even,” I said, leaning back in my chair.
The man across from me was supposedly some kind of “poison” mage. He claimed he was only a quarter Forsaken, but there were some signs he was further gone than he let on. I saw the black at the edges of his eyes. I saw the twitch in his face.
Fuck it, though. I’d take a damn half-turned if I could find one. That little blue-helmeted bastard slipped me in the Black Wood and survived a briarwraith. Somehow, he’d sent it back to where it came from.
I was done underestimating him.
The poison mage—Morrivan—leaned forward. “We’ll split it 50, 25, 25. 50 for me.” His black hair hung in greasy clumps, and when he smiled, I saw graying teeth streaked with green.
I laughed. “50 percent for you? It’s my mark. Besides,” I said the last word casually, balancing my knife point first on the calloused pad of my thumb. “If someone said the wrong word to the right Kiergard? Well, I reckon you’d be strung up in front of the palace.”
Morrivan’s eyes darkened. With the black robes, black fingernails, and white skin, the man gave me the creeps. But creepy shit could be stabbed, simple enough. I didn’t care how fancy his magic was. I’d like to see him stop me from stepping into his own shadow and splitting him from ear to ear.
“We split the take three ways, 50 for me, 25 for each of you. Take it or leave it.”
Morrivan’s nostrils flared, but he sat back, lifting a hand dismissively. “Well enough, then. And if some misfortune claims your life, I’ll take your cut and your mana. Not a bad consolation prize…”
I laughed. “There you go. Positive attitude. I like that.”
Our third emerged, clad in black-stained plate with hair to match. He had an impetuous look, like an offcast prince with a chip on his shoulder.
“There he is,” I said. “Morrivan is in, and he’s downright chipper about it.”
Cassian sat down and motioned for one of the servers to bring him a drink.
The boy was quiet, and I couldn’t say I minded that. Some said I talked enough for a full party all on my own. And maybe they were right, but none of them realized it was intentional. People are happy enough to take the face you show them. Downright greedy for it, if you asked me.
I show them a careless, talkative fool, eager to fill every moment with jabbering. Then, when the fight starts, they don’t expect what I become.
Plenty of fools learned the hard way they misjudged old Rake.
“Any of you fancy a game of Vice while we wait for him?” I asked. “I’ll even match your first wager.”
Cassian ignored me, apparently more interested in glaring at the table.
Morrivan got up with an annoyed sound to pace at the back of the room.
The man was going to turn full Forsaken before long. For his sake, he had better hope he was out of the city when he did.
I was distracted by the pacing mage when a flash of blue caught my attention. I kicked Cassian’s greaves under the table. The boy lazily lifted pale blue eyes, then looked where I was looking.
The pair were leaving the inn.
And in a hurry, by the looks of things.
One was tall and broad-shouldered, with a horned voidsteel helmet and a black cape that looked new. Nice boots, too.
Beside him, the same red-haired girl The Acolyte had been misting was following.
We all stood, let them get a slight lead, and followed them into the street. If what we heard earlier when they were with the bigger group played out, I imagined we wouldn’t have to wait too much longer before they headed for the dungeon.
I whistled for Morrivan, whose eyes snapped toward us.
“C’mon,” I said, jerking my head.
The three of us were all Irons.
If those two didn’t end up joining some big-ass expedition, they’d be easy pickings for us. This time, I wouldn’t have a godsdamn briarwraith rushing me, either.
#
Brynn
[Hunger 32%]
I hadn’t been able to stop checking the hunger meter. I barely took the time to send a quick message to Bloody Steve once Lyria explained how to work the comm cards in my personal space. I let him know we were leaving early, and that we could try to catch him some other time.
With how fast the hunger was rising, we couldn’t even wait a day to head for Beastden, let alone six to let Bloody Steve finish his whorehouse tour. Besides, ever since he not-so-subtly implied he killed an ally last time he was in a dungeon, I thought it would be best not to partner up with the little psychopath anywhere dark mana was involved.
I rushed through Thrask with Lyria, unable to stop myself from checking my cursed bedroll every few minutes. So far, we had knocked two items off the to-do list.
First, I hung up my trophy in my personal space. Even when faced with the cursed wrath of an awakening bedroll, a man had to have his priorities.
Second, we found an illusionist, paid ten silver, and got the look of my helmet transformed into a simple metal helmet with a “T” shaped opening for my eyes, nose, and mouth. Supposedly, the illusion would last “at least” a week.
Now, we were walking along the busy second tier of Thrask toward the adventurer’s guild to sign up and claim our free corestones. I was happy to note I was drawing almost no attention at all with the illusion in place.
Even with the clock ticking down, I couldn’t help but give a personal space shop a very longing look as we passed. Through the window, I saw drawers upon drawers labeled with various signs like “Room Size Increase,” “Crafting Stations,” “Training Rooms,” and “Recovery Pods.” There were also signs advertising vouchers for every type of furniture under the sun.
Maybe once I found out how to feed my bedroll, we could come back. I wasn’t sure why it appealed to me so much, but I really wanted a training room in my personal space. Only needing one hour of sleep per night would mean plenty of spare time each day. If I was in the city, I wanted the option to train without having to step outside the city walls.
Despite everything on my mind, the thought of training made me itch to get back to it. My skills all felt like barely touched toys I still wanted to explore. More than that, I wanted the power bumps from pushing each skill to higher tiers. I also couldn’t wait for my corestone to evolve new abilities and possibly upgrade in rarity.
After some conversations with Lyria on the topic, I gathered that I could hope for faster advancement in evolving my corestone if I made it to Iron. However, she wouldn’t be surprised if I evolved a couple of new skills before that point, given my “ridiculous advancement speed.”
I had already bumped my Elemental Projection and Forge Echo abilities to Tier 2, but both my Chain and Elemental Body passive skills were still Tier 1. I wanted to fix that. I was curious how my Chain ability would work with the Silver Scream bow. Since targets could only be affected by one instance of Silver Scream at a time, I guessed the benefit there would be limited. Unless maybe the “one instance of Silver Scream” at a time part only meant one element. Maybe two arrows with the same effect could double the application speed and the size of the final burst of damage?
Questions for later, I decided.
The more I thought about it all, the faster I walked. Occasionally, I glanced up at the huge, gaping cave ceiling and the falling waters. Sometimes, I inspected one of the many strange races we passed or gawked at a particularly powerful-looking adventurer. Mostly, though, I was thinking of how badly I wanted to use all my new tools.
I had a legendary bow that seemed insanely powerful. I had a get-out-of-jail token with my amulet. I had my ring, cloak, net trap, boots that would likely save my ass time and time again, and brand-new herbs to toy with. I could sell my augment token and use the money to buy more herbs, better equipment, or an armload of items from the personal space shop.
As much as I wanted to do all that right then, the steadily increasing hunger in my bed made me think I might have to wait for the shopping trip. I would be lucky if we even had time to try to identify my Alchemist’s Kit and Voidgaze after our business at the guild.
The adventurer’s guild building was massive and built like a small castle with its back against the cave wall. Adventurers, clerks, and guards came and went from the building in droves. It was a far cry from the somewhat busy but mostly quaint guild in Riverwell.
[Hunger 34%]
We’re fine. This shouldn’t take too long, anyway. I could think about my new abilities on the trip to the dungeon.
I stifled a yawn, looking up at the structure.
“Oh,” Lyria said, “is this boring you?”
I shook my head. “Just tired.” I couldn’t even recall how long it had been since we slept. “I wish I had time to actually use my bedroll right now.”
“Yeah, if I wasn’t worried about getting haunted to death, I’d ask for a turn. Then again, that thing looked disgusting. I’m not sure I could sleep on it.”
“I’ll take disgusting if I get all the benefits,” I said.
Lyria chuckled. “Shocker. Anyway, maybe we can catch a little rest on the boat ride to the dungeon.”
We pushed through two massive double doors and stepped into another world.
One look inside the building and I thought I might be in love.
Thrask’s adventurer’s guild looked like a tavern common room mixed with a library and an office. The ground floor appeared to be dedicated to desks covered in posters, papers, and busy-looking guild employees who all wore the same dark green uniforms.
Polished stone steps led to a second floor with comfortable couches, tables, and desks for study. Adventurers of all ages lounged on the stairs leading up, talking seriously or joking. A tomte with a lute on his back and a feathered cap was sleeping on a table while two women I took to be his party members took turns setting game chips on his body. It looked like they were trying to see who would be the first to place a chip that fell off his rounded belly, or maybe the first to wake him would lose.
The highest floor was barely in view from where we stood, but I saw glimpses of towering rows of books and quiet, robed figures or armored adventurers moving between them. A young man with dangling dark hair leaned over the railing high above with a book in one hand and a drink in the other.
Between the low hum of conversation, the smell of books, and the atmosphere of camaraderie and importance, I thought I could spend days in here simply drinking up the space.
“This is great,” I whispered.
“Adventurer’s guilds are serious business,” Lyria said, giving me a soft shove with her forearm to get moving. “We can drool over it later. Come on before you know what wakes up.”
We walked down the entrance stairs and approached the main desk. All the employees wore similar uniforms. The dark green fabric on the men’s uniforms folded down at the collar to show a decorative gold lining on the underside of their coats. They had matching golden tassels on their shoulders like military officers. I guessed the more embellished tassels seemed to imply higher ranks.
The women wore dresses with a square patch of gold fabric showing just below the waist and a gold “V” trimmed into their necklines.
We took a spot in line behind five heavily armored guards who were speaking with a man at the main desk.
People who looked like guild regulars came and went, passing around us to head up to the higher levels or greet friends. Even here, I mostly only saw Wood- and Iron-ranked adventurers, all wearing the guild badges showing their rank on one shoulder. Some of the badges seemed more embellished, though.
My inner trophy hunter perked up at that. Were there ranks within the guild? Could I get embellishments on my rank badge?
There were few things in the world I wouldn’t do for trophies and cool badges. Very few things.
“I didn’t ask how many you have,” one of the guard women said. Her voice was clipped and hard, like somebody who was used to having her orders followed without question. “I told you we need them, and I expect compliance.”
The employee she spoke with was an older man with a lined face. His uniform was the most ornate I had seen, making me think he was in charge.
He stared back at the frightening woman, unblinking. “And I’ve told you. The guild reserves the right to hold our corestones for new recruits. Between the guard, Ithariel’s army, and shopkeepers trying to poach them from us, we’ve given all we can. The Heartstones we have are for recruits. If you would like Sword, Soul, or Shield corestones, I would be happy to help. Otherwise, there’s nothing more to speak about. ”
The woman pounded a gauntleted fist on the desk. “King Theon sent me. Should I have him come himself?”
The employee gave her a bored look. “If King Theon has the time to come harass me about handing over what few Heart corestones we have left, I welcome him. And I’ll tell him the same thing I’ve told you. I’ve read the contract between the guild and the cities. I’ll boldly presume you have not. I suspect you’ve been too busy stomping around Thrask, trying to intimidate innocent people.”
“This isn’t about intimidation,” she snapped. “Those corestones save lives. We need more healers. The rifts are getting worse. And Forsaken are showing up in numbers we’ve never seen before. We’re losing people faster than we can replace them. I even heard Lorkan the Gold is rumored to be toying with corrupted mana,” she added in a hushed whisper.
“Dark rumors,” the man agreed. “But he could simply be taking longer to finish his last commission than usual. It’s best not to jump to paranoid conclusions.” The guild worker paused, then sighed. “For the record, our work here saves lives just as surely as what you do. However, you’re fortunate that a dungeon has opened so near to the city. I expect our members will return with a bounty of fresh corestones to sell any day now. So I will give you one. It’s all I can spare. You’ll only be leaving me with two.”
There was a moment of tension, and then the woman finally relaxed her posture. “Very well. I thank you for your… cooperation.”
The man went to a room in the back and emerged a little while later, handing over a red, glassy ball that was a little too large for him to wrap his fingers around.
“Now get out of my guild,” he said with a twist of his lips.
“Gladly,” the woman said, jerking her head. The guards all turned and walked past us.
Damn. Suddenly, I was a little worried getting this Heart corestone might not be as simple as I hoped.
I expected the man to help us, but he picked up a stack of papers and rushed off. A chipper woman replaced him. She was elderly, but I wouldn’t guess it from the bright smile and shine in her eyes.
“Hello, there. What a lovely young couple,” she said, beckoning us forward.
“We’re not—” I started, but the woman waved off my objection, talking right over me.
“I’m Poppy,” she said. “Some of the cantankerous adventurers like to call me Old Pops, but I prefer Poppy, if you please.”
“I don’t want to be rude,” I said, “but we’re in a bit of a hurry. We both wanted to sign up to join the guild. The thing is, I need a Heart corestone. It sounds like that might be a problem. Do you think you can help us out?”
“Well,” Poppy said, giving me one of those grandma winks. “I think Old Pops could probably wrangle one of those for such a charming gentleman.” She looked to Lyria, eyes twinkling. “He’s handsome, even if he’s trying to hide under that helmet. You did well for yourself, sweetie. He looks like the sort with a firm rear, and let me tell you—a firm rear is the fastest way to judge a man’s worth. Well, I suppose opening his coin purse is faster. But using the rear is more fun.”
I saw Lyria open her mouth to say something, then she closed it.
“If you don’t mind,” I said gently. “We really are in a hurry.”
Poppy smiled. “Give me just a minute! I’ll go in the back and work my magic. And what stone were you thinking about, you little red-haired-beauty? You’ve got the look of a Shield about you if I say so myself. Hm?”
“Yes,” Lyria said. “That’ll be fine.”
I tilted my head at her, but she didn’t say anything. Was she actually considering switching classes? I hoped it didn’t have to do with me. But I could follow the logic. Maybe she thought she could protect me better with a class devoted to tanking.
“Are you going to switch?” I asked once Poppy shuffled away and into the back room. “If not, you should ask for a Heart stone. Given the state of things, you could probably sell it for quite a bit.”
“Thought about that,” she admitted, “but it felt wrong. You heard them talking. They need healers.”
I shrugged. “I sympathize as much as anyone. But you wouldn’t be destroying the stone, just causing it to change hands. It seems like the guards or military would scoop it up from whoever you sold it to soon enough. Then, it could go on to save lives. Only difference is you’d be a little richer. And you could use the money to buy a Shield stone, pocketing the difference.”
“Dammit, Brynn. When did you become so ruthless? I thought you were Mr. Bleeding Heart?”
“This isn’t ruthlessness,” I said, a touch defensively. “Just practicality.”
Part of me wondered if she was right, though. Was this place changing me already? I knew some parts of who I was needed to change if I was going to survive. Still, I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of becoming jaded so quickly.
She seemed thoughtful. “Alright. I’ll ask her when she comes back.”
“Are you really thinking of switching classes, though?”
“I don’t know,” Lyria admitted. “But I’m not getting anywhere with my current class. Maybe I could… do your understanding and visualizing thing better with different abilities. I’ve had this stone for years and feel like I can barely use one ability. Maybe I’ve built up too many bad habits.”
There might be some merit to her line of thought. Who was to say she wouldn’t advance more quickly with a different set of abilities? Maybe her current class simply didn’t suit her. And if not, nothing would stop her from switching back if she wasn’t making quick progress with a Shield class.
“I’ll do my best to help you get a strong start,” I said. “Would you change before the dungeon? That seems risky.”
“If not now, then when? I’ve got to keep up with you. And you learned your stone on the way to the infestation, didn’t you?”
I grinned. “Getting competitive now, are we?”
“Always,” Lyria said.
Poppy returned with a Heart corestone in one hand and a Shield in the other. “Look what Old Pops managed to scrounge up?” She extended the Heart stone toward me.
I took it reverently.
“And for you, dear,” she said.
“Actually…” Lyria hesitated. “I wondered if you had any more Heart stones? I think I’ve changed my mind.”
Poppy’s lips turned down. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. This was the last one. Another recruit just claimed one, too.” She shifted her eyes to the side and I saw a man who looked suspiciously like a city guard. He had on a robe, but I could see a bit of his armor and the Thrask colors poking out from beneath the fabric.
Was the guard sending fake recruits to the guild to poach Heart stones? Did they really need them so badly?
“Alright,” Lyria said. “Shield is fine.”
“You’re sure?” Poppy asked. “You could always try again tomorrow. With that new dungeon, we should be getting fresh stones very soon.”
Lyria shook her head. “I’m sure. Thank you.”
Poppy gave a kids will be kids kind of shrug and handed over the stone. She motioned to the nearby three-pronged device I recognized from Riverwell. Once we tethered to the stones, we’d be able to read our abilities.
“Can you keep trying for different abilities by tethering to new stones of the same class?” I asked suddenly.
Poppy was still within earshot and decided to answer my question. “The abilities you get are unique to you, Dear. Whether you bind to that stone today or fifty years from now, it’ll start with the same abilities. Now, if you were to follow a paved path, you would be handed down an imprinted stone from your master.”
“Imprinted stone? What’s the difference?”
“Once any ability reaches tier 2 or a stone is pushed to evolve a new ability, it imprints. Before that point, you could trade the base stone around and it would rewrite itself to each individual. After imprinting, the starting point is locked. This is the basis for paved paths. A skilled teacher can lead students to follow almost exactly in their footsteps. Of course, it’s also possible to evolve a stone to great power and willingly hand it over to a student or relative. Some families have cultivated extremely powerful corestones over several generations of training, so long as the user doesn’t die before they hand it over. There’s no collecting corestones from corpses, unfortunately.”
I wanted to ask about a million questions, but I checked the hunger on my bedroll instead.
[Hunger 36%]
Is it getting hungry faster? Or have we spent longer in here than I realized?
“Thank you,” I said quickly.
“Of course. Now, if you’ll just sign the contracts,” Poppy added apologetically. She rattled off a summary of what was included, like our obligation to fulfill commissions for the guild and the consequences of failing to do so.
I scribbled my name down, then watched Lyria do the same. “We’re good?” I asked once I was done. My leg was bouncing with impatience. I was thrilled to be taking this step in my journey, but I desperately wanted to feed my bedroll and avoid having to destroy it.
“We’re great!” Poppy said. “Those stones are yours, now, recruits!”
I focused on the stone in my hand and fed a trickle of mana into it.
I was getting so familiar with mana that the sensation was almost like pressing a phantom finger inside the stone. In Riverwell, I felt like the Soul stone was zapped into my slip space when I bound to it.
Here, I could feel it latching to me. It went somewhere slightly different than my slip space, too. I had started to sense it with my Soul stone, but I was more certain, now. The new Heart stone seemed to slide inside my body, as if it existed in the same spiritual sense that my perception of mana did.
[Attunement successful] “Heart” Class Corestone equipped.
[Skill(s) Unlocked]
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