Rise Of Myth: Heir To Valor 37 Not A Beas

"I did not ask you, now hold still, this is just a first fitting, I'm not done." The scarlet-haired armorer, was pulling on some strips of leather that seemed to be connecting pieces yet to be st.i.tched, that let her adjust the fit of the armor around his torso.

Val was standing in Joanne's workshop, she had cobbled some pieces together with shocking efficiency, it had barely been twenty-four hours since he had last visited. Granted the pieces were not complete, but it seemed she only needed to trim some portions and finish some st.i.tching to complete the jerkin. The brown leather pants fit just fine after some adjustments to the length and waist, aside from being leather instead of denim, they felt close enough to his jeans to be comfortable, even having front and back pockets in a similar cut. Trading the front zipper for laces was a small adjustment, but she even added belt loops at his request. She was drawing in some areas where it seemed she intended to reinforce the leggings.

"What's left to finish it?" Val asked.

"Why? In a hurry?" Joanne glared at him in response to what she perceived to be impatience.

"Not in particular, there's a contract to hunt some beast that I was thinking of—"

"Don't." The dwarf held a stern gaze to him.

"You know something about the contract?" Val raised his brows curiously.

"Enough to know it is not a beast, a monster would be a more appropriate term, and whatever it is, it's not a simple one either."

"What do you mean? It hunts prey and lives in the woods, it's not a person, everyone seems convinced it's a beast, what kind of monster would it be?"

"You do not understand beasts then. From bears to wolves, even hybrids and creatures of the scale, they will hunt, even prey on livestock, but they will not do so in such quant.i.ties. Whatever monster this is, it's far too ravenous, attacking nightly, even if it was feeding a pack of its own kind, it would not act with such desperation." Joanne explained as she resumed her work, yanking on some loose ends, causing enough tightness and discomfort to convince Val he was wearing a corset, not a jerkin.

"So what then, we just wait as this thing terrorizes the farmlands? At some point someone has to do something."

"Maybe, maybe not. Whatever it is, it came from somewhere, and clearly these hastily thrown together hunting parties are doing little else but sharpen the monster's hunger. Better to draw it out by starving it of its prey and kill it with numbers, or let it wander off in search of food."

"That's what I'm worried about. To be honest if it wanders much further south, I'm afraid it'll run into people I happen to care about."

"Hmm? You have friends not far from here?"

"Not too close, regardless, I'd rather someone deal with whatever this is before it kills more people."

"Sigh, very well, if you insist on hunting the creature, bring Asha."

"I already asked her— she agreed too. Something in particular I should know?" Val eyed the dwarf curiously, though she looked at him with some confusion.

"You really know nothing about her abilities?" The dwarf sounded genuinely surprised.

"Literally met her not even a week ago."

"Huh. Even stranger that she takes your company so well, she's not terribly social, mind you. Anyway, a wind dancer is really more a term that came out of wars between humans and elves, they would appear as if they were dancing in the wind, twin blades in hand, reaping heads as if a current simply carried it off their shoulders. In their own tongue they are called something closer to 'wind speaker', they have an impressive command over the air and its currents. If they wish it, the spirits of wind will forbid the air from carrying their footsteps, their scent, or it may carry it in circles, confusing your hearing and sense of smell. Naturally there are few who can hide from them as well, this would include the monster you hunt." Joanne explained as she made some markings along sections of the jerkin with a charcoal pencil.

*That explains why I can never hear her approaching…* Val nearly shuddered at the imagery, imagining Asha gliding along a battlefield, not wanting to even picture being her target in a dense thicket.

"Hey." Joanne jabbed a sharp knuckle between his ribs, waking him from his imaginations.

"Ow, jesus lady, same spot over and over again, leave the ribs alone."

"Then pay attention, did you hear what I said?"

"I uh… I did not."

"Whatever this monster is, three millimeters of tempered steel served little better than plywood. This armor will not fare any better if you take its claws head on. If it's too dangerous, you run, Asha can cover your escape, there's no warranty that covers idiocy and that kind of damage. Understand?" Val was unsure if she cared more about the jerkin or his health.

"Sure, I understand. No heroics."

"Hmph, since you said so, keep your word."

Not long after, Joanne had finished marking up the armor for refitting and instructed him to come back in the early evening, promising it would be done by sundown. Leaving Val a few hours to wander through the market. Try as he might, it still shocked him seeing a diversity of fantastical species interacting as if it were common place. It could not be described as a utopia by any means, it seemed racism was still an issue, possibly even more flagrant here than among his own kind. However the guards were pretty strict about people's behavior, very quickly arresting and heavily fining any rowdy troublemakers. It did not take long however for Val to realize that the discrimination that did exist and seemed even allowed, but it was enabled by coin.

After hanging out in the market for an hour he had come to notice a few things. If you had enough coin, you could discriminate among your clientele, it went beyond the right to refuse service, he spotted someone bribing the guards to simply remove persons from the area around his stall entirely. On paper it was a public market but he noticed some guards barring entry to some stores, only allowing specific people in, despite the fact these guards worked for the city. It seemed like the public guards offered a variety of services to private individuals who would pay a premium for it, the a.n.a.logous idea of hiring police to filter entry to a store by their race seemed wrong to him, but it was just business here.

What came as a second surprise was it seemed nearly everything was for sale, save for slaves and parts of people, regardless of their race, though it was unclear yet if that simply had a different venue for it. Listening in on some conversations Val had a wry smile realizing that a human was openly selling potent recreational narcotics, very loudly hawking his substances. To the dealer's credit, he was very open about how addictive they were, though it was clear some were intimately familiar with that fact, noting a few desperate buyers.

Val also noticed he was getting a bit of attention, despite changing out his t-s.h.i.+rt and blue jeans for more a more local outfit comprising a linen s.h.i.+rt and some simple leather replacements for his jeans, he had spotted two people who had been monitoring him, not seeming to care how obvious they were about it. One of them he recognized— the handler from the Black Dogs that Boldir pointed out to him. He was not sure why, considering the only thing that might stand out was the sword and pair of knives, but even then, many were very clearly armed in the market.

Not terribly fond of the attention, Val approached a stall run by a half-elf by the looks of his shorter ears.

"Welcome! What can I interest you in today?" The half-elf merchant greeted him warmly.

"I see you sell cloaks, how much for one that might cover me completely?"

"Hmm, depends what you are looking for, I have a variety of cloaks, mantles, capes, hoods, might you be interested in some other fine garments? I'll give you a discount if you purchase a whole outfit."
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"Just a cloak, what kinds do you have?"

"Well, I have ones fit for many occasions, winter is approaching, perhaps a thick woolen cloak? Waxed to s.h.i.+eld you from the rain. I also have a line of them made from finer materials such as cotton, silk, and velvet if you are in finer company."

"I'm something of a traveler, I spend much of my time in the wild, it needs to be durable and light, and it cannot stop me from drawing my blade."

The merchant looked at Val with a slightly distressed expression. "If that's the case… Perhaps one from waxed canvas will suffice, but if you insist to draw such a long blade from your back, no cloak will make that easier."

"Then one that can be taken off with a single hand, no ornate brooches or complicated clasps."

"Uh… Oh, I know just the one." The merchant rummaged around some creates before producing a dark gray cloak, it was almost black, with a loose fit around the neck. The clasp was very simple, though it seemed to have two fastening methods, a b.u.t.toned clasp and a reasonable thick leather string like a shoelace, though the b.u.t.ton alone could suffice. It was surprisingly light despite its size, barely over ten pounds, and covered his body down to just below the knees.

"Waxed canvas, st.u.r.dy enough to withstand wind and rain, and plain enough to not draw attention. You can fasten it with the single b.u.t.ton, string, or with string if you wish to tighten the fit. There's enough room around the neck that if you truly insist on drawing your sword you can do so, but it is easy enough to discard the cloak if the need arises. Provided it's a dull arrow or a lighter bow, might even spare you significant injury." The merchant happily explained, though Val was already quite taken with the garment.

"I'll take it, how much?"

"For a hundred and fifty crowns, it is your—"

"Done, here." Val immediately fished out six coins, a large coin almost three centimeters in diameter valued at a hundred crowns, and five coins valued at ten, handing them to the merchant. He noticed a complicated look on the merchant's face, but if he expected to haggle and priced the cloak high, Val did not care. The money he had was to be spent, if he needed more he would find a way or sell more information to Boldir. Val smirked, the idea of treating the barkeep something like a bank to freely draw coin from amused him, though the merchant seemed confused by his expression.

Donning the cloak immediately, Val blended into the crowds as he weaved his way back to the inn. He had spent much of the money he had on him already, almost all of it going to the armor Joanne was making, along with some other simpler clothing she had in store, and Boldir had nearly ten thousand with Val's name on it. He had offered to take Boldir to his storage s.p.a.ce to verify his information but apparently the cunning barkeep had claimed to have already verified it, how, he was not sure. Likely they had already found a working vehicle and its keys at some point but had not bothered to inspect it too carefully.

The tavern was as noisy as usual, Asha seemed to have retrieved her gear from Joanne's at some point and was chatting with Boldir at the bar. Huginn and Muninn had returned, snacking on a few different offerings of nuts.

"Boo." Val had approached, still hooded, though Asha just gave him an unamused sidelong glance.

"Ha, if you're trying to not draw attention, you might consider a different color." Boldir was chuckling at Val's appearance.

"It's enough that it hides me from recognition, there are others in dark cloaks anyway. Speaking of, did you sell information about me to anyone?" Val cast a suspicious look at the shrewd dwarf.

"I would never sell anything important about such an important business partner."

Val was not buying it. "…But perhaps 'trivial' details are for sale."

Boldir shrugged. "Perhaps, if the coin is right, withholding information is another service I sell, you know."

"So why are the Black Dogs following me?"

Boldir busied himself drying some mugs with a hand towel. "Oh? That's useful information. Though it is not what you think, this I'll give to you for free, I have not dealt any information to anyone about yourself. Though I suspect it is less to do with you, and more to do with the raven-haired la.s.s here who keeps putting ale on your tab."

The side of Val's mouth twitched as he adjusted his gaze to the elf happily enjoying a large mug, seeming very content with herself.

"Okay… Without even touching the topic of why you can't be bothered to buy your own drinks… You are aware you agreed to hunt a monster in the woods with me tonight, yes?"

Asha shrugged. "A gentleman would buy me a drink before taking me out at night."

"Mmhmm… How convenient, in less than a week I've been elevated from 'foolish child' to 'gentleman'. Boldir, I'm almost afraid to ask, just how long is my tab now?"

"Hmm, let's see, since yesterday: five pints of ale, three pints of cider, four servings of mixed nuts and a half rack of roast lamb."

"Lamb? I've had all my meals with Asha and she hasn't had—" Val whirled on the pair of ravens happily enjoying themselves.

"Super, I'm paying for everyone then."