Zachary Scott
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Chapter 93 - Back to Grimbo
🕑 Added 2024-10-02 17:10:03 +0000 UTC“This is… quite an extraordinary collection of accomplishments.” The Arcanery's naidu had blue skin, a thin, curly mustache, excessive jewelry that clattered when he moved, and a steampunk style collection of lenses mounted to his face.
I waited as he studied me, his one blue eye enlarged until it felt like it took up my entire view.
“Very extraordinary,” he said again, his voice thin and reedy.
“Do you mind keeping it down a bit?” I glanced over my shoulder, confirming that Lyria and the others were all at their own booths speaking with other naidu or waiting in line for their turns behind other adventurers.
The Arcanery was busy, with people of all shapes and sizes coming and going through the building. The Thrask Arcanery reminded me a bit of a bank back on Earth, assuming the bank was given a makeover by eccentric gypsies, at least.
You would also have to swap bored looking customers for adventurers who seemed eager to claim life-changing rewards, too. As I waited for my naidu to get on with it, I scanned the crowd. To my left, a bloodied group of men in robes who looked like wizards were whispering excitedly as they left, all eyes on a young man with a glowing token in his hands.
To my right, a dangerous looking woman in black plate armor with a wicked sword on her back pocketed a reward token, eyes briefly scanning me before she stalked out of the building.
There was even a small squadron of geonite men—dwarf-like people made of rock with various colors of magma-like hair and veins running through their craggy skin—entering through the front. I didn't see one of the massive boulders they called a female, though.
The thought of geonites reminded me of Bloody Steve. We had agreed to meet him in Beastden when he finished his grand tour of all the whorehouses in Thrask. I felt a little guilty. He should have finished that by now, assuming he survived what I had to imagine was a barrage of STD exposure. If he lived, he probably headed to Beastden to meet us like we’d planned, only to find the whole place cleared out with no sign of us.
I had to smile a little at the thought of what would go through his head. There was no way in hell he’d imagine we were the ones who cleared the place.
I still have the comm cards for Minara, Bloody Steve, Perch, and Kass. Once I finished claiming my loot, I would take a few minutes to figure out how to use them and check in. From what I understood, I just needed to be in my personal space, and then I could use them like sending an email email. But magic.
A clatter of jewelry and movement drew me from my thoughts. The naidu had produced the little black box which was covered by a velvety purple curtain on one end. He was done inspecting me and evaluating my accomplishments, it seemed.
With a flourish of his small hand, he shoved it inside the curtain. He kept reaching deeper into the box until he had stuck his entire arm inside a box that looked no bigger than a soda can. With some effort, he pulled his hand free and was now holding a bulging sack of tokens that clattered as he set it on the table with a thud. He also held a small scrap of paper the naidu called a “scrip.”
In a quiet voice, he read off my accomplishments, carefully laying each token before me as he went.
“Common Dungeon Diver's Token, for defeating five enemies within Beastden.” He placed a simple wooden coin with etched patterns on the table.
“Common Lone Dungeon Diver's Token, for defeating an enemy without allies.” That was from one of the nightmaws I'd taken down solo.
“Two Rare Dungeon Diver's Tokens,” he continued, eyes widening slightly as he placed them side by side. “One for defeating five elite enemies in Beastden, and another for clearing the spawning chamber.” The tokens gleamed with a faint blue light, reminding me of the Host of Horrors and the rat queen's fortress we'd blown to splinters.
The naidu's voice lowered to a near whisper. “An Epic Lone Dungeon Diver's Token... for a solo kill of an elite monster.” His eyes flicked up to me again, as if waiting for me to explain how I had somehow cheated the system to earn these rewards.
I offered a slightly awkward smile. One of my biggest directives was to keep a low profile while I was still regaining my strength and clawing my way back to godhood. The other prestiged gods were potential threats, and Ithariel himself was the biggest threat of all. Only eight of us had activated prestige mode and reset our progress. Ithariel, for reasons I still didn’t know, had kept his god-like strength.
There was no way for me to safely find out if he was a friend or foe, so the only safe bet for now was to assume running into him would be a deadly mistake. So would drawing the kind of attention that could let him track me down, assuming he was looking for us.
Unfortunately for me, the Arcanery and claiming accomplishments meant the naidu were always going to see exactly what I'd done. I just had to hope they were as professional about keeping the information private as people said.
He carefully set down a golden token etched with silver patterns. “Rare Ascension Trophy, for advancing to Iron without the use of an ascension token.” He cocked his head, silver eyebrows furrowing. “I've… never seen this one… Remarkable.”
“Mhm,” I said, pocketing the coin and gesturing for him to hurry. It was only my third time claiming tokens, but it seemed like each naidu had their own slight variations on how they handled business. This naidu seemed to lack the discretion of other naidu I'd dealt with so far.
“Rare Iron Dungeon Diver's Token,” he continued, “modified from an Epic accomplishment due to Iron Rank penalty.” That one was from using bombroot and dragon's tail to blow up an entire room of creatures in the spawning room on our way out of Beastden.
I had to admit, part of me still found satisfaction in getting actual tokens commemorating all the noteworthy things I did.
“Rare Iron Survival Token, for surviving fifteen near-death experiences.” He shook his head slightly as he continued awarding my tokens. “Common Iron Stealth Token...” The naidu eyed me at this one with more suspicion than admiration. I didn't blame him. Stealth accomplishments were generally related to unsavory things like hiding Forsaken qualities or, in my case, the presence of dark mana in my corestones.
“Common Healer's Token, for healing thirty different targets.” That was from helping the wounded adventurers after we left the spawning room.
Hesitating slightly, he reverently placed a gleaming token that seemed to pulse with its own inner light. “And finally, a Legendary Personal Space Upgrade Token, for... defeating an Eclipsed at least one rank above yourself.” His voice had dropped so low I could barely hear him. “You fought an Eclipsed?”
“I didn't know that's what he was at the time.”
“How did you defeat him?”
I scooped up the tokens, offering a tight smile. “A lot of luck and with a lot of help.”
The naidu seemed to want to ask more, but I was already backing away from the booth with my sack of tokens in hand. “Thanks for your help,” I said, then turned and headed outside before he could press for more details.
One by one, everyone came out to wait with me in the street. Lyria came last, looking satisfied.
“Everybody happy with their accomplishments?” I asked.
My question was met with rare smiles from the escaped slaves and enthusiastic nods. I grinned. “Yeah. I think we did pretty well for ourselves down there.” I knew none of them would have earned quite the haul I did, but I suspected they would have a few nice surprises.
We wordlessly headed toward the nearest tavern, where we would be able to acquire a personal space key and claim our rewards.
As much as I wanted to immediately claim my own tokens, I knew I needed to start at the furnisher. Tokens like my Legendary Personal Space upgrade couldn’t be claimed from within my personal space. The naidu were notoriously tight-lipped about how dimensional spaces work, but I had the strong suspicion it would be unpleasant to be inside a personal space while an upgrade was applied.
I wanted to claim that upgrade for my personal space before doing anything else. Maybe it was unlikely, but I wasn't going to risk opening a bunch of loot and then finding out my personal space upgrade would've amplified my rewards somehow.
Unfortunately for me, that meant a trip to Grimbo's furnisher shop. But first, I wanted to make sure the escaped slaves made it safely to a personal space.
We drew a fair share of looks wherever we went. I attributed that to the sekmeti, who stood out as the only pair of people with dark purple skin and golden freckles I had seen in the city. It didn't help that the evening light made their freckles and silver eyes seem to glow slightly.
We found a busy tavern called Cavern's Rest, ordered some food, and took a table near the back of the room. I sat with my back to the rest of the room, partly to stop myself from gawking and inspecting everybody's level and rank, as well as endlessly reading descriptions of all the races provided by my helmet.
Voidgaze was both a blessing and a curse. I always had the option to pull up a kind of tooltip in my visual field when looking at people or objects. And when I was in Beastden, I discovered that ascending to Iron had even improved its capabilities somewhat, like giving me more detailed descriptions of my own abilities and spells. As cool as it was, it sometimes felt hard not to get lost reading tooltips and inspecting everything I saw.
For a few minutes, we all scarfed down our food and drinks, hardly talking except to note how good it tasted. A few days in a dungeon eating dried rations had me already missing real food deeply.
“So you'll claim your rewards,” I said, swallowing a mouthful of bread. “And then… do you think you'll seek out the tomte at the docks I mentioned? Massian Rahma?”
“Yes,” Thorn said. “That is the plan.”
“And you've all got somewhere safe to go?” Lyria asked.
“As long as we're bound to our masters, nowhere is truly safe, Lyria,” Ramzi said softly. “But we knew the risks when we ran after the attack on our caravan. To live in slavery is danger. To be free from slavery with danger is a fortune we are glad to have.”
Thorn clapped the sekmeti on his broad shoulder and gave a grim twist of his lips. “Well said, Ramzi.”
“Will you go to a dungeon again?” I asked.
“Perhaps,” Zahra said. “If Massian doesn't know of a Wood Rank dungeon, we may have to risk lingering for a short time in the city to gather information.”
“Then why don't you guys stay here while I ask around for you?” I asked. “We've made it this far. There's no use risking yourselves so close to the finish line.”
Ramzi gave a bitter smile. “The finish line? I believe our finish line will come when we're dead, my friend. Our path is one of blood, fire, and a small glimmer of hope.”
His words settled in my stomach with cold weight. I wanted to be able to do something. To help. But the constant tension of knowing my own past—the scraps I had gathered, at least—made it frustratingly hard to justify diversions. I was Seraphel. I sent myself to where I am now for a purpose, and I need to find out what the hell it was. Until I knew where to direct myself, I could only assume I was supposed to get stronger as fast as possible.
“At least hang out here for a couple days.” I said.
“Hang… out?” Zahra asked. Her catlike eyes narrowed.
I shook my head. “Sorry. Just take a moment to relax. Play some Vice. Sleep. Just stay out of trouble for a little while. It’ll give me time to ask around while I'm doing what I'm already going to be doing. It won't be any skin off my back, and maybe I can come back with the name and location of a Wood Rank dungeon for you. I can even go meet this Massian guy myself and make sure he can get you there before you risk showing yourselves. Deal?”
“Skin off his back…” Ramzi muttered to himself. “He speaks in strange ways.”
Zahra smiled. “You are too kind to us, Brynn.”
“It's really nothing,” I said.
“It is something,” she said, standing and taking my filthy hand to plant a soft kiss on the top of my knuckles. “Nothing is what most would do. You honor us by thinking to do something. Do not dishonor what you do with your words.”
Ramzi followed after her, repeating the gesture and kissing my hand.
I grinned awkwardly as I glanced around the room, hoping nobody was wondering why my supposed slaves were kissing my hand.
“Alright, alright, you guys are making it weird,” I said. “Do you all have comm cards?” I asked.
“Slaves aren't allowed them,” Thorn said.
I nodded. “Figures. Alright. Lyria, is it possible to get comm cards for them?”
She shrugged. “It would be easy, yeah. I’d just need to—”
“Good,” I said. “Make sure they each get comm cards and link them up with yours. “You can do it while they’re claiming their loot. Other than that, all of you need to lay low. I'll handle bringing you food and supplies if you need them. I've got a few errands to run, but you make sure to keep in touch with Lyria, and she'll update me when I’m back. I'll do my best to gather some intel while I'm out. And, uh… You should probably send Lyria a message if you get any really interesting loot.”
Thorn raised an eyebrow. “Why should we do that?”
“Tactical reasons?” I said, hardly sounding convincing.
Lyria smirked. “Brynn just really likes loot. What he means to say is he really wants to know if you get any strong items for the sake of his own curiosity. Feel free to ignore him.”
Zahra bowed her head. “You will be the first to know, Brynn.”
I smiled. “Perfect.”
From the look on Sylara's face, I doubted she was going to pass along any information about her loot. As far as I could tell, the woman still didn't trust me, not that I could fault her for that. I doubted I would trust myself either after what she saw in the dungeon heart chamber. After all, I vaguely recalled something about shouting that it was time to die before firing laser beams of elemental energy from my hands and trying to trap my allies in a deadly, spiked cage of mana.
Yeah. I imagined that would be a hard one to live down. But I also wasn’t eager to explain the dark mana swirling in my core like oil. I’d just have to live with a little distrust, for now.
We finished our temporary goodbyes and the slaves headed off with keys in hand to access their personal rooms.
“I don't want to sound callous,” Lyria said once they were out of ear shot and we were alone at the table in the corner of the tavern. She lowered her voice, leaning forward with earnest eyes. “Maybe you should leave all this slave stuff to me. Don't you have… bigger things to worry about? The whole point of you being here with this new power is to find a way to stop whatever had the gods so scared, right? Can you afford to take on all these extra side projects?”
“Helping them doesn't feel like a side project,” I said, even though her concerns echoed my own.
Lyria made a frustrated sound. “I know. You're right. It's just… in the grand scheme. You made it sound like there's some kind of existential threat to Eros. Will it matter if four slaves are free and happy if the whole world gets vaporized a few months or years from now?”
“Whatever it was, nine gods decided they weren't strong enough to stop it,” I said. “That means I'm nowhere near ready. I'm barely Iron. Even if I was… Diamond, or Mythril, or whatever, I still wouldn't be ready. Right? In other words, my mission right now is to get more powerful by any means necessary. I don't think gathering a little information will slow me down much. And so far, simply trying to do the right thing has led to me straight to experience gains and growth.”
“Okay, fine. But if this goes too deep, I think we both need to be ready to cut ties. Spending a little time? Getting a little distracted? Sure. But if it comes down to standing against the entire Thraskian guard to protect them, we can’t risk you for that.”
I chewed the inside of my lip, took a deep breath, and nodded. “You’re right,” I said, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. “I don’t like it. But you’re right.”
“Good.” Some of the tension seemed to leak from Lyria’s shoulders, but her eyes were still intense. “And what about the Aspirant’s Guild? I saw the look in your face back there when you learned about it. You're planning on joining, and don't even bother trying to lie about it to me.”
I considered trying to lie, but decided it probably was useless. Yeah, I desperately wanted to join. I could at least downplay how badly I wanted it, though. “It sounds like a guild focused around training and getting stronger to compete for powerful rewards and items. In other words, a perfect opportunity to train, master my abilities, and maybe even get some mentorship for once from powerful people. I'd even be able to do all this without the constant risk of permanent death or disfigurement, too. From where I'm sitting, the Aspirant's Guild currently looks like one of the safest and fastest ways for me to jump forward in my power.”
Lyria sighed. “But you understand why they train, right?”
“For the tourney,” I said slowly.
“Right. The tourney which can absolutely lead to death and disfigurment.”
“I hear you, Lyria,” I said, trying not to smile.
She planted her fists on her hips, one red eyebrow lifting. “And you’re not going to listen?”
“I listened as well. I’m just… still going to do it.”
She sighed. “Can you at least promise me you're not just twisting this to sound logical because you think you're going to get trophies and cloaks out of it?”
I blew a raspberry. “What? I didn't even remember they had cloaks.”
She gave me a long, sharp look, but then grinned and stood up from the bench. “I got some nice tokens. Do you want to come watch?”
“Not this time. I'm going to go pay Grimbo a visit first to claim a voucher I got. Then I'll come back here to claim my stuff. You're welcome to join if you want.”
“Call me crazy, but I think I'm going to pass on watching a swarm of grommets cream themselves over whatever it is you're getting. I’ll get those comm cards for the slaves, claim my rewards, and then wait around here for you to get back.”
“If I finish before you, I'll play some Vice here in the common room.”
Lyria gave me a cutting look.
“Which will be the perfect opportunity to casually listen to conversations and gather information about dungeons or other opportunities.”
“Mhm,” she said. She worked her lips to the side, hesitating. “You'll be careful on your own out there, right? I haven't really let you alone to wander this place by yourself. You're sure you remember the way to Grimbo's? And should you maybe go get the illusion on your helmet refreshed? It should be wearing off soon, right?”
“I was the one navigating before,” I said a touch defensively. “And the city is literally just a big half circle on every level. It would be pretty sad if I got lost. But yeah, I’ll get the illusion refreshed after Grimbo’s.”
“Will you do your best to avoid attacking nobility, guards, or random people and making even more mortal enemies?”
“I always do my best to avoid that.”
“That's exactly what worries me. If what I’ve seen is your best, then you are really terrible at it.”
“You can come if you really want to, Mom.”
Lyria plucked a chunk of bread from the scraps on her plate and threw it at me. “You're on your own. But don't get killed or thrown in jail. I don't want to have to try to break you out.”
“Okay, okay. Be careful. I get it. All you had to say was that you're worried about me and don't know what you'd do if anything happened to me.”
Her cheeks reddened, though whether from anger or embarrassment, I couldn't say. She looked like she was about to speak, then stood suddenly and walked toward the personal space door around the corner.
I reached across the table and finished what was left of her bread and meatballs in a few greedy bites, brushed the crumbs from my hands, and then headed for Grimbo's at a brisk jog.
Admittedly, it did feel strange to be completely on my own in the streets of Thrask. Since arriving at Riverwell, I had almost always had at least Lyria by my side. But the excitement about claiming a legendary personal space upgrade was just about the only thing on my mind as I weaved around people of various races and sizes in the busy city streets.
High above, I could see stars smattering across the darkened sky through the hole high above in the cave ceiling. Thanks to my cursed bedroll, I felt wide awake, even though I would probably be getting tired by now without magical assistance. I grinned at the thought. Only wasting an hour per day on sleep felt like an investment that was going to pay more and more dividends over time. If part of my goal was to advance more quickly than the other prestiged gods, it would be a huge factor in my ability to succeed. I was getting hours of waking time to use every day they weren’t getting, which was a massive advantage.
I had been jogging through the streets for a few minutes when I realized I should have probably been breathless from exertion, but I wasn't. It reminded me of dreams I had back on Earth where I could sprint for hours without ever losing my breath. I wasn't exactly sprinting, but it still felt bizarre. Had all this time on my feet trekking through dungeons and forests already conditioned me so much, or was I seeing one of the hidden benefits of reaching Iron?
My thoughts drifted to the personal space upgrade I was about to claim. It could be almost anything. And legendary was just one step below the final tier. I tried to think about what I hoped it would be, even though I knew I had no real control over it.
I really wanted some kind of training room like I had seen in Circa's personal space. An easy access room where I could go and test out my abilities on some sort of regenerating target would be hugely useful. I also would have loved something like a herbalist's cave. I had no idea if that was a thing, but I imagined a forest, garden, or cave-like addition to my personal space where I could grow and cultivate herbs for making potions. Then again, a magically enhanced table that would let me combine ingredients and modify their characteristics would be equally amazing. Or maybe some kind of bench where I could infuse my equipment with elemental effects from my potions?
I also would have been excited if I simply got a gigantic space upgrade for my personal space, which was still the size of a broom closet. I imagined a huge, ornate hall with tons of wall space for trophies and such.
As I got closer to his shop, I was surprised to find I was actually a little excited to see Grimbo again. Despite the creepy, voyueristic ways of the grommets, they felt like true allies. Short, borderline useless, penguin-shaped allies. But allies who had unintentionally saved our asses. Allies I’d be happy to have spying on us as often as they liked.
I also knew the nine gods had once ruled over some sort of divine “house” before activating prestige mode. I couldn't say for sure if things would head down that path again, but if there ever came a time where I could be open about my former divinity, I imagined it would be useful to have some kind of faction or following on my side. Loyalty would be like a shield or a sword, depending on how I might need to use it. Admittedly, the grommets were a bit of a dull sword and a flimsy shield, but I liked them, and wondered if there was a future where they might somehow become partners working with me toward my goals.
With enough time, we could even power-level Timbo into a god among grommets. I grinned as I imagined the white-robed geriatric grommet as a Silver or a Gold. Maybe I could gift him a class corestone. If Lyria didn't want her Sword stone back and I ended up deciding to use a Shield stone for my open class slot, I could ask her about giving it to Timbo. Then again, he was more of a Heart class kind of guy. Giving him some actual healing abilities might save me from ever having to endure that thing where he chewed up his root staff and smushed it into my open wounds again.
I finally stopped outside a crooked building on the edge of the road. It hung over the ledge, propped up by criss-crossing stilts and beams that looked like they were about to crumble.
Grimbo’s furnisher shop.
I hesitated, knocked, and then pushed the door open. A small bell jingled over my head as the door slid open.
Several grommets scattered like scared rats as soon as I stepped inside. There were womps of fear, womps of surprise, and one “I'm about to faint” womp. I found myself mildly concerned that I was already pretty sure I understood the subtleties of different womp tones.
Grimbo smiled as he caught the fainting grommet in noodly, fleshy pink hands. “Hey ho,” he said.
“Hey Grimbo,” I said. “If you're not busy, I was hoping to claim a voucher.”
Grimbo dropped the unconscious grommet, who thumped to the floor unceremoniously, rolling to the side with wide, unseeing eyes partially obscured by brown hair. Grimbo seemed to float closer to me, teacup eyes wide and full of curiosity. “You are not revealing the rarity… this one feels… teased.”
I smirked. “Do grommets like surprises?”
There was a chorus of womps and yet another grommet fainted, bonking his face into Grimbo's front desk and sliding to the ground with the speed of dripping syrup.
“I'm going to take that as a yes. Come on, grommets,” I said, gesturing as I moved deeper into Grimbo's shop. “I think you're all going to like this surprise.”
Comments
Colin C
currently missing from the collection
Jackboeface
Thought there was chapter up to 106 ??
