“The shield requires no maintenance. Tis’ but a scratch. I’ll throw in polish for free. The pierced one can be patched for 3 gold – if the hole was any larger, it might have been problematic, but this hole can be perfectly covered by a steel scale.”
“Alright. So, counting the chainmail repairs, and the leather armor patching and replacement… around 15 gold?”
“14 gold, 3 silver.”
The smithy in the Adventurer's Guild offered slightly better rates to registered Path-bearers. Still, those repairs were anything but cheap, their total price nearly reaching that of a brand new set of leather armor.
Between them, the stable fees for Stormcloud, and the food I had to buy - having missed the temple's lunchtime - I was already down to 445 gold, and this was even before setting foot either the potion shop or Miller's Gadgets & Artifacts, which was another shop I had to visit today.
I managed to convince the clergy to let me leave before visiting the temple, on the condition that I stay within Northern, and return before 10 in the evening.
Of course, I had no intentions of doing otherwise, even without their insistence.
Feeling my heavy gold pouch start to lighten up once more, I went on to the next shop – one which I had visited yesterday.
“Greetings! How can- erm, how can I help you?”
It would appear that the apprentice alchemist at the counter did not forget yesterday's ordeal, either. Although his gaze did not turn hostile or cold, his voice definitely gained a tinge of nervousness.
“I am here to buy healing potions, a stamina potion, and potentially others, if anything catches my eye.”
“O-of course! By all means, let me show you the best healing potions you can find in any of the outer districts!”
The moment he smelled the alluring scent of gold coins, all hesitation vanished, replaced by enthusiasm.
“Would you like to see the highest grade potions first?”
“What’s the price per vial?”
“150 gold. Can be consumed in up to 5 doses before the effect starts greatly diminishing.”
“...I will take one. Now please, show me the cheapest ones.”
I felt the stinging regret of not buying a secondary potion earlier, having wasted three tenths of a potion, which was likely even more expensive than this one, in a single fight. However, what was done was done. I couldn't go on without a life-saving potion, anyway.
“I could show you what you ask.. but, let me warn you – the cheapest healing potion would have an anti-synergy with the Sun's Tears.. That's the name of the other one you wish to purchase.”
“Erm.. what's an ‘anti-synergy’?”
“If you drink two potions, mostly those with similar effects but drastically different ingredients, you usually experience similar, or even worse effects than when overdosing on each. That phenomenon is called ‘anti-synergy’.”
His courteous, smiling expression turned serious.
“Specifically, I'm pretty sure the anti-synergy between Sun's Tears and Red Hope, our cheapest healing formula, starts at strong nausea and minor poisoning, advancing to paralysis and serious poisoning based on the dosage. It may not lead to death, but it's definitely not something you'd want to experience in any situation where you'd want to use either of those concoctions.”
“Alright. What's the cheapest one which doesn't have an anti-synergy?”
“Since Sun's Tears uses a rare herb called Dawn's Blessing as its core ingredient, the other potion must use it as well. That would only leave Sunray-in-a-Bottle, which goes for 50 gold per vial.”
I sighed, unable to hide my bitterness.
“Fine. Any instructions on its usage?”
“It can also be consumed in up to 5 portions. Two of its portions equal one of Sun's Tears’ in effectiveness, but the toxicity buildup is similar.”
‘So basically, 50% of the HP restoration, for a third of the price.’
“Alright. What's the cheapest Stamina potion?”
“10 gold, sir. Up to two doses.”
“I’ll take two. By the way, do you have any reinforced potion cases?”
I really, really didn't want my potion case to be hit in battle. However, the answer was disappointing.
“We do have reinforced potion cases, but based on what I see, yours is as tough as any of them.”
I lowered my eyes, subconsciously exhaling in frustration.
“The contraption shop should have a better one, equipped with an arcane barrier…”
My eyes lit up.
“...but the price is somewhere in the triple digits, it can only hold four vials in a square formation, and it can only mitigate a few hits until it must be recharged. Which isn't cheap, of course.”
My enthusiasm rapidly evaporated with each new word that reached my ears.
In a slightly ashamed tone, as if to console me, the halfling made a suggestion.
“If you're afraid of losing all potion at once due to an unlucky blow, you could purchase separate reinforced single-vial holders. If you take both healing potions, I could throw two for free. Then you can store the cheaper potions in the regular case.”
“Hmm… yeah, that's a good alternative, actually. Thanks.”
“No problem! Now, the total would be 220 gold.”
“Alright. Do you accept currency cards?”
“Of course. Just a moment.”
The halfling swiftly returned with a form.
“Huh?”
Upon a closer inspection, it contained a few fields, such as a name and the amount paid, as well as a place for my signature, and a small empty square.
“Is this your first time paying with currency cards?”
I hesitantly nodded.
“Most fields are self explanatory. Erm, I assume you can read, yes?”
I nodded once again, slightly annoyed by the question, even though he did try to word it politely.
“The square is for your blood. That's what this pin is for.”
He quickly showed me a silver pin, which still exuded a faint scent of alcohol.
“You need.. my blood?”
“Currency cards, as a means to withdraw money, are usually personal and non-transferable. Changing their registration is an action that can only be legally performed by the Bank Of Valoria. This form, including your blood, is used to assert the legitimacy of the transaction.”
“I… see. Does this mean you have to visit the bank every time those cards change hands?”
“Technically, you can keep the form and the blood for up to a decade, potentially two or even three, before the blood is too old to properly analyze. However, it's easier to just deposit it.”
“Alright. Purely out of curiosity… wouldn't someone who stole my identity and cards be able to pay with them, leaving fake blood on the form?”
“I can check the cards against your blood right here. If I didn't have the arcane contraption, I wouldn't be able to accept them as payment.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on NovelFire. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
I suddenly recalled something.
“Didn’t that elf.. The archery trainer. Didn’t he hand you a card without all this?”
The halfling’s voice showed faint signs of attrition.
“His cards were issued by the Guild, within this same branch. Depositing them here is much simpler.”
“I see… anyway, here.”
While coming up with a particular loophole that made it possible to steal and use those cards (as long as the thief also stole my blood and could drop it on the form either via sleight of hand or illusion magic), I quickly filled the form.
Then, following the halfling’s instructions (who might have gotten spooked by my questions), I placed my middle finger on the square and let him draw a tiny bit of blood using the needle, staining the yellowish paper.
“Now, the cards.”
I gave him both my cards, as well as 20 gold coins, instantly cutting my (monetary) net worth by nearly half.
He took out something that looked like a glass cylinder, pressing one side against the blood, and each card (specifically, the crystals at their center) against the other side in turn.
Both times, the cylinder shone with a light-teal glimmer.
“All done. Thank you for the purchase! Let me just get the cases…”
True to his word, he walked to a small corner of the store, picking two reinforced single-vial cases from the far corner of the shop. He then handed me the stamina potions straight from a nearby shelf.
As for the healing potions, the one worth 50 gold was standing on a luxurious stand, which housed a few other bottles. The halfling extended his identification token towards it, and the air around the stand suddenly shimmered, allowing his hand to pass through and grab the bottle.
“Master, one bottle of Sun's Tears, please!”
As for the other potion, it wasn't even kept in the front, and the apprentice likely wasn't allowed to leave me alone at the storefront.
The black-haired woman, looking even more tired than yesterday, quickly flickered in the doorway behind the counter, not even sparing me a single glance, and the apprentice handed me my 2nd potion two seconds later.
“Please come again!”
“Thank you, have a good day.”
I would have loved to check out the Attribute-enhancing potions, whose shelf I managed to find while throwing a few glances around the store, but just like my high grade healing potion, all vials seemed to be just for show, and no price was below triple digits.
With this, I continued on to the nearby store.
After experiencing the usefulness of my Darkness Sphere, I couldn't wait to see what other contraptions had to offer.
***
“Would you look at that – is the world coming to an end? For the life of me, I didn't think I'd ever see you arrive here first.”
After scanning the otherwise empty room, the dwarf turned his eyes to the red haired woman sitting at her usual spot at the table.
Her expression was sour, and her reaction nonexistent.
“Oi, what's wrong?”
The dwarf's voice rose in exaggerated concern.
“Is it.. perhaps.. that time of the month again?”
“Shut your mouth, you rock eating buffoon. This is serious.”
Without turning her head towards the dwarf, the woman continued to sit, using one of her throwing blades to carve the same few lines into a random piece of wood in her hand.
“Aren’t you the jester of our little court? What could possibly make you turn serious?”
The woman opened her mouth to speak, her eye twitching, but ended up taking a deep breath instead, releasing an equally long exhale filled with disdain, deciding those childish provocations weren't even worth a reply.
“
Snif
… why does it smell like damp dog fur?”
Of course, the dwarf didn't ask the question without knowing its answer – and not without knowing of the extraordinary senses of the one who walked through the door a few seconds later.
“Ah, Redclaw! Me and Ruby were just discussing the lovely weather outside!”
The dwarf's overly friendly smile lacked any effort to appear genuine.
“I did not come here to hear the drivel of a bumbling fool.”
The voice of the newcomer was deep, and his tone heavy.
At the doorway stood a tall, muscular man, dressed in a plain gray robe. Despite his gray hair and the wrinkles on his face, his posture radiated strength, and his bright yellow eyes were sharp, directing their piercing gaze at the red-headed woman.
“It was you, wasn't it? The one who sent this signal.”
Ruby’s defiant eyes interlock with the newcomer’s.
“Yes. I did. Got a problem with that?”
The man did not reply. Instead, keeping his eyes fixated on the woman, in a slow, powerful step, he began advancing towards her seat.
Ruby dropped her piece of wood on the table, pushing back the chair and standing up, throwing blade still in hand.
“You made me lose my prey, woman. What was it that was important enough to disturb my hunt?”
He was now towering over her, lowering his head to look at Ruby with his inhuman eyes.
“Step back, you damn animal! I will deliver the news when everyone has gathered!”
Despite her praiseworthy efforts to keep up her fearless front, someone with sufficiently good perception could hear the faint cracks in her voice.
“It is not the first time my hunt was interrupted on your account. Perhaps… I should lay claim to what was once mine. Perhaps one of my old hunts should be resumed once more.”
“You!.. You crazy bastard! Does the boss need to beat some sense into you again?”
“The leader isn't here. There is no one for you to hide behind.”
“Stand down, Redclaw. It is true that Scar is yet to arrive, but if you insist,
I
can scorch your flesh in his place.”
The next arrival was a man, as evident by his voice and stature.
He wore a long white cloak with red trimmings at its sides, covering his head, and similarly colored robes underneath.
His head, including his hair, were hidden underneath a white coif, and an iron mask concealed his face, safe for the pair of red eyes, staring at the other man with disdain.
“Emberrr..”
For a moment, the man's speech turned into a low, wolf-like growl, as his eyes narrowed down.
“You are not the leader of this pack. Do not presume
you
can command me in
his
place.”
“I may not be Scar, but I am more than capable of showing a petulant dog his place.”
Two pairs of eyes, one red, the other yellow, locked onto the other. The silence grew heavier and heavier, and the tension in the air felt volatile enough to be ignited by the slightest spark.
“Now, now, children, stop your squabbles. Daddy's home.”
The atmosphere instantly diffused as the final member of the Crimson Shadows leisurely walked past Ember, not even sparing a glance to any of the standing men, and casually slumped into the luxurious armchair at the head of the table.
He wore a full set of composite armor, made of scale and plate, dark-gray, almost to the point of appearing black under the dim illumination. His hands were covered by black leather gloves, and not a single ounce of flesh was visible underneath the rest of his clothes.
Completely covering his face was a full helmet, made of the same dark metal. Through the bars, with sufficiently good vision, one could barely make out a pair of black eyes, and perhaps the rough outlines of the hideous burn scars covering the man's face.
“Tsk.”
Ember was the first one to relent, taking a seat to their leader's right.
“...do I need to ask?”
Scar's tone was still casual, yet the yellow-eyed man quickly moved to take a seat to his left, and the dwarf's right.
“Now, let us begin this meeting.”
***
“A Crimson Shadows member was eliminated?”
“Aye. My drinking buddy from the watch just heard the story. Apparently, the murderous maniac and his henchmen attacked a carriage of the Solar Order in broad daylight, which was transporting a paladin and another person.”
“A paladin?..”
“The paladin was badly wounded, but he survived, so those priests at the table will probably patch him up in no time. The other person managed to shake off the other pursuers, and killed the Crimson Shadows member in a one-on-one fight.”
“First of all, why were you and your watch buddy drinking in the middle of the day?”
“That’s not the point, you damned tree hugger! They attacked a man of the Solar Order in the middle of the street! Surely, this can be used somehow. Right, Bern?”
“Hmm…”
The group grew silent, waiting with tense anticipation for their leader's analysis.
“Perhaps. We'll need to see whether the Sun Temple decides to take this as a personal offense, or if they simply mount a symbolic response for appearance’s sake.”
The man’s tone was contemplative, but not dismissive.
“If it’s the former, we might not even need the Tainted Angels. However, even if it's the latter, that might leave a few disgruntled men who would later be willing to join our cause.”
“So… What does it mean for us?”
The dwarf’s question was hesitant, yet hopeful.
“It could be good. It could barely change anything. It depends on how fast they respond, and even more so – how they do.”
The room descended into thought once more, before the half-elf spoke.
“By the way, did you catch the identity of the other man? Perhaps he has some connection to the Shadows… Come to think of it, if he was their target all along, we might even procure the perfect bait.”
“I don't know. My buddy didn't say. But he was arrested by the guards before being released on behalf of the temple, so his identity will probably be out on the streets by tomorrow.”
“Alright. Everyone, keep an eye out for that, and Hilda – use your connections to try and gauge the sentiment inside the Sun Temple. If we're lucky, we might soon find the answer we've been looking for.”
The gazes around him filled up with relief, as everyone stood up almost synchronously, each going to their own destination with renewed vigor after a few farewells.
“And then, Geoffrey… I will finally have your head.”
There was no one left in the room to hear the faint mumble.