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Drip-Fed – A Rivalry Finale – The Autumn Market
🕑 Added 2024-11-06 19:11:22 +0000 UTC
Atlas whistled. “So much, ey? You’ll be able to get a few good items. One, maybe two per person.”
“That would be beneficial,” Apexus answered and showed a deliberate smile. Their partnership with the Atlas Party had become a friendly rivalry over the past couple of months. Even with that, they relied on the Warrior and his compatriots whenever there was something about the local goings on that could require some guidance.
Today was not such a case.
The Autumn Market was a unique opportunity in its scale. Spring and Summer were Questing season, which made Autumn and Winter dungeon-diving season, at least on this Leaf. To be more precise, Autumn was for travelling and Winter was for dungeon-diving.
Over the course of the Questing seasons, plenty of materials had flown into Drowse’s markets. Materials that were, of course, being put to use by the crafters of the society. The resulting items were always being sold, of course, but the Autumn Market was when everyone came together in one big push to get their storerooms empty and their coffers full for next year.
Unlike the market before the Expedition, prices did not fluctuate notably during this event. Enchanted items were in steady demand. It was their luxury price that kept them on shelves for long times. With minimal care and the occasional polish, they could remain on shelves for a while. The Autumn Market was simply a stretch of time during which everyone agreed to make this the theme of the public square.
As with regular business with the crafters, payment could be delivered in two forms. Either one paid in coin or in promissory notes, which was a legally binding document that the adventurers would deliver a set of materials to the crafter within a set timeframe. The former was favoured in all but long-lasting relationships.
“What are you looking for?” Atlas asked, while they passed down a stand that sold Adventurer’s Bags. “Weapons, armour, utility?”
“We don’t know,” Apexus said simply.
“Reysha said she wants a Weaponmaster’s Wristband!” Rahesia reported from the back. The party leaders were not the only ones chatting.
“She did?” Apexus asked and looked at the redhead.
Reysha shrugged. “I described something that’d be neat to have and she told me they have something like it.”
“Then let us find that first,” Apexus said.
“Utility items are in the western part.” The leader of the Atlas Party waved and led the way, the rest of the group of nine following him through the somewhat dense crowd. The stalls around them rarely had more than three items on offer. Enchanted items were a lot of work and typically only created on commission. It was craftsman’s pride and ambition that had them put together these items for the joy of the work alone.
They had to ask around a bit until they found a shop that had what they desired.
“Mhm… yeah, should fit.” The leather worker, an elf in his early adult years, hummed while comparing his creation to Reysha’s arm. Another reason why enchanted items were usually created on commission was that they were horridly expensive to adjust afterwards. The magical matrix did not respond well to changes to the physical dimensions it inhabited. It was like squeezing a bag with pretzel sticks inside it. However soft the process was, something was practically guaranteed to break.
The Weaponmaster’s Wristband was more of a leather vambrace. It was kept in place by criss-cross strings, like a corset. The sturdy top part of it was decorated by carefully inlaid True Silver patterns which functioned as the flowing centre of the magic. With enchantments, the most important part was esoteric certainty. The swirling shapes did not have any magical power by themselves, but the ritual of creating them and believing them to have magical power did make it so. Enchantment was a school about a state of mind as much as it was about manipulating mana.
Once Reysha had pulled it in place, the creator gave instructions. “Pull one of your daggers with that hand, if you would? Alright, wonderful… now, open your hand while intending to put it away.”
Reysha had heard of weirder instructions. Her digits spread out. The dagger did not drop. Mana flashed blue and the weapon disappeared. “Interestiiiiing,” the tiger woman purred. Before the rest of the explanation could be given, she brought her fingers together again. Imagining that she was holding the dagger again was all that was needed to make it so.
“Quick on the uptake,” the crafter complimented. “With those two gestures you can switch between all the weapons stored in the dimensional pocket of the item. Maximum is up to three weapons. They can be as small as a knitting needle or as large as a spear. It is enchanted to recognize weapons only, so it won’t accept shields or something like that.”
“Three is not a lot but it’s also not so little,” Reysha said. “Any chance to get that higher?”
“Maybe if you bring me the materials, although I wouldn’t claim to be that good yet. Roughly speaking, Weaponmaster’s Wristbands get an extra slot in segments of 20 levels. Starts at 2 slots for level 1 to 20, 3 slots for 21 to 40, and so on.”
Reysha was playing with the functionality. “Yup, this is pretty great. How much?”
“550 Platin,” the crafter answered quickly.
“Ehem!” Korith stepped forwards, forcing the tall elf to lower his chin. “450.”
The crafter sighed and scratched the back of his neck. A gesture to win time while he weighed what type of haggler the shortstack was. ‘I really don’t need to deal with a kobold…’ he thought. ‘Goldborn no less…’ “I can’t go lower than 500. That’s the cost of the materials with a 15% surcharge for my work hours.”
“510,” Apexus decided before Korith could take the deal. The crafter lifted an eyebrow. “I value people’s time highly.”
“…Well, aren’t you a charming fellow?” The crafter laughed and gave Apexus a friendly tap on the shoulder. Money changed hands and the vambrace remained in place.
“I’ll have to put the spear in this later,” Reysha thought out loud. As the resident weapon collector, she had bought a couple more armaments with her private money. The less wieldy ones were kept in the storage room of the Mobile Estate. Another advantage of having that key turned out to be that they had a mobile armoury.
One of them had her armament, so there were three more to go. Korith was quite happy with her weapon and her armour at the moment, but there was something that Warriors were generally recommended to get.
It was an amulet. A mana-infused gemstone sat in enchanted gold, forming a diamond-shaped pendant dangling from a silk string. It was a Blast Charm. As the name suggested, the energy stored in the amulet could be used to create an explosive shockwave outwards that left the user unharmed while blasting everything around them back.
“It’s very handy if something enormous swallows you whole,” Atlas said.
“D-do you have personal experience with that…?” Korith asked.
“No, but I am twice your height,” the fellow Warrior joked and then laughed even louder at the kobold’s expression. “I use it to scatter out enemies after charging into a group. Breaks up their formation and all of that.”
“Which is a bitch to deal with when he does it unannounced!” Alabasta chimed in. “I had a perfect shot lined up, arrow was already flying, then he activates it and pushes my target out of the way!”
“The monster was about to bite my face!”
“Yeah, well, that’s Rahesia’s loss, not mine.”
“I will make it your loss!” Threateningly, the Witch raised her Grimoire.
Bantering like that, the two parties continued to look around. Finding something of value for either Aclysia or Apexus turned out to be more difficult. It was notoriously difficult to find adequate items for spellcasters. Anything too heavy weighed them down and they did not need anything with active special effects, courtesy of them already being capable of magic.
“Perhaps I should invest in a Scripture?” Aclysia thought out loud.
Witches had Grimoires and certain varieties of Priests could utilize Scriptures. The difference between the two was simply that between the intent to harm and aid. Where a Witch ailed the enemy with a Curse of Vulnerability, a Priest could draw a Blessing of Protection from her Scripture. Beyond that, the functionality was much the same: it was a book in which spells were inscribed using expensive, mana-rich ink. The writing, much like in enchantments, were the esoteric medium for the effect.
Witches universally used Grimoires. For Priests, utilizing Scriptures pushed them towards the further categorisation of Preacher. Like all Classes, it was an umbrella term to describe a set of skills that were recommended to be learned together due to their synergy.
Kumlin scratched his bearded chin. “Can’t really comment on whether that’s a good idea or not, never worked with a Priest that uses one… well, not closely enough to comment on it.”
“Is it that uncommon?” Aclysia asked.
“Many Priests are capable of casting their god-specific blessings without a tome, so they prefer to wield staves as their spell mediums. Since you use that charm, that’s not a big issue for you…” Kumlin was now stroking his beard. “The other issue is that it is a constant drain on mana, but your reserves on this are – pardon the pun – divine. Perhaps a Scripture would be a worthwhile investment for you.”
So, they bought Aclysia a Scripture. Such tomes were more readily available, because every Priest could theoretically pick one up. That did not help the price though. Every page was from paper pressed utilizing thrice sanctified trees, watered with blessed liquids. The cover was made from the leather of a bull that had lived a holy life in the stables of the Church, raised from calf to old age knowing only good care and a full belly.
That was just the empty book. Aclysia required holy ink in addition to that to start inscribing the first blessing.
She was eager to begin with that, but they were not quite done yet. “Anything caught your eye, darling?”
The humanoid chimera scanned the stalls around them. Weapons he had no interest in. He disliked how they felt in his hands. Similarly, covering his body in armour that was not grown was alien to his nature. Frugality fit him best.
‘It is expected of me to buy something,’ Apexus realized, witnessing the gazes of the women around him. Even Korith kept quiet, withholding the case she could make that all of that money was very well kept with Hoard. ‘Learning to utilize some items would be wise,’ he told himself and tried hard to find anything at all that piqued his interest.
His sensitive nose picked up the smell of chamomile.
The scent awakened a memory. He had consumed that plant once and fallen asleep because of the relaxing effect. It had been… yes, it had been quite some time ago. In simpler times, in the shadow of Gizmo’s little house. Herbal patches and the alchemy set of the old hermit that was no more.
Apexus found himself standing in front of one such set. Alchemy was a complicated and yet simple art, requiring enchanted utensils to draw out the true esoteric potential of the ingredients. “Are you interested?” the seller asked and gestured at the full set. “Freshly made. 800 Platin for it all, from flask to grinder. Perfect to make mutagens.”
Mutagens were the combat application of alchemy. Things like Healing Potions required a process that was too lengthy to be done in the middle of a dungeon and just generally unviable for anyone who was not rooted somewhere with a good workshop. Mutagens did not have that issue. They could be created relatively quickly, relying primarily on parts of the consumer’s body to come together. Their purpose was to create short-lived mutations or other beneficial effects. They rarely saw use for three reasons: first was that mutagens did not have a long shelf life, second was that they had to be brewed for a person specifically, third was that many people were squeamish about them. Even if it was reversed, the idea of replacing one’s hand with a crab claw weirded a lot of people out.
Apexus had no such reluctance.
‘Should I?’ the humanoid chimera wondered. He was tending towards no. He did not know how useful this would be. However, if he was expected to buy something and he had no better ideas. “I will buy it,” he decided.
“Excellent!” Money exchanged hands and everything was packed up into a padded wooden box. “Should it be delivered somewhere?”
“No.” Apexus opened up the Mobile Estate right there. By now it was no secret that he had it. All it revealed to the seller was who he was talking to. It did not matter, the transaction concluded and the box was put away in the storage room.
The humanoid chimera closed the doorway just in time to hear a commotion.
“PLEASE! PLEASE, WILL NO ONE TAKE THIS QUEST?!” A man shouted across the plaza.
“Well, that sounds interesting,” Atlas commented. Both parties moved towards the source of the voice.
The speaker was a man in his later years. His hair was almost entirely grey, with some streaks of light brown remaining. He wore clothes of once good quality that had since become stiff and bleached by wearing them every day. The pants were especially thin around the knees. He was currently on them, pleading to all the adventurers that had formed a circle around him.
“What happened?” Atlas asked a different member of the crowd quietly.
“I don’t know, he just appeared suddenly and started begging.”
“I think that’s Lord Tarath? He owns an estate outside the city,” another member of the crowd weighed in.
“Oh, that Tarath.” Atlas turned the other way to inform Apexus around the rest. “He posted a Quest about his daughter like three years back. It’s technically still up, but everyone ignores it.”
Quietly, Apexus listened to that explanation. ‘Am I missing a detail?’ he asked himself.
“Please, I have posted the request but none are answering! I cannot wait any longer!” the man cried out. “Please, someone! I need you to reach the bottom of the dungeon of Trauma!”
That alone had most adventurers check out. Trauma was the dungeon on the other side of the world and covered the level 35 to 40. Too high for most people around to tackle and too far away to be worth it even if they could.
“I know your Quest,” Flora spoke up. “It’s, uhm… you only pay 50 Platin.”
The noble turned to her, his face a display of deepest despair. “It is all I can spare! Please, I need it to save my daughter. The flowers at the bottom of the dungeon are the only hope I have!”
Atlas sighed and scratched the back of his head. “That’s a far-fetched legend. Only Maltos ever brought those back. No one will take that Quest… not for that price anyway.”
“It’s all the money I have…”
“You have land that you could sell.”
“What are you doing?” Apexus asked, his voice heavy with disapproval.
Atlas sighed and turned to the humanoid chimera. Their eyes met. Both of them pulled their shoulders back. “It’s the life of his daughter and if we take the Quest, it’s our lives at stake as well,” the Warrior stated firmly. “I am not crossing the entire world for that sum.”
“A-anything, I’ll pay anything!” the man cried out and crawled towards them. “Just please go and find those flowers! 500 Platin! No, 5000! Better my daughter grows up a pauper than not at all…”
“You hear that? That’s an acceptable Quest right there!”
“This is reprehensible.” Apexus’ harsh tone had Atlas groan. “You are exploiting a desperate father!”
“And you want me to go out there and risk my life for a pittance!” Atlas shouted back. Both men had now raised their voices and were staring at each other. “I am selling a service and I do not eat goodwill and dreams!”
“Would you let his daughter die if there was not enough money?”
“The world is a cruel place, take it up with the gods if you want to change that.”
“Cruel it is, it does not need to be made ugly by greed as well.”
“I am not greedy!”
“You most certainly are.”
“Please, do not fight!” the grovelling man begged. The other party members of both sides had not been sure if they wanted to intervene. “Please, please, just accept my Quest! Go and save my daughter.”
The two-party leaders exchanged one more glare, then Apexus turned away to help the man up. “I will,” he promised.
“I negotiated first,” Atlas stated.
“Are you that greedy?”
“Are you that prideful?”
“I have my principles.”
“Y-you both will take my Quest?” Tarath asked.
“”Yes.””
