Day 9
I had not slept well, and morning was an unwelcome guest.
The grave chill had been the source of another unpleasant night. When I was being affected by the disease contracted from the rat bite, I had been feverish. That had caused time to pass at different rates depending on how aware I was. But with this new affliction, I was cold all the time. It was a constant in a cold that did not pass, no matter what I did. I tried hot food and even a hotter bath, but nothing seemed to shift it. It was something I was constantly aware of, and it caused the hours to drag by.
I was lying wrapped up in the blankets of my bed, not feeling the benefit at all. The sunlight was coming through the shutters, and I knew it was time to get up. I was exhausted from not sleeping. The weariness I was feeling was both mental and physical. I slept fitfully at best, the cold keeping me awake. My head felt heavy from more than lack of sleep.
Thankfully, I did not need to worry about working today. The debt had been cleared for the next fifteen days. I was still planning on working, but not today. The quests I had been doing had been enough to stay out of trouble with the system debt. I had to get rid of this ailment, and I still had many hours left to endure. I was going to have to get up soon to get something to eat, but I felt completely unmotivated.
As I lay there, I thought about what I needed to do. The ceiling was getting boring to look at. Food, of course, first. Then I will need to settle up my bill with Isabel Lodestone. I had paid through tomorrow, and I will need to extend it. The three gold coins I had left would cover another ten days staying here. Then, of course, there was going back to the Arsenal to collect the mace.
A relatively light and easy day. If I could bother to get myself out of bed. The near regular shivers up my spine were not helping my mood.
I watched the time tick by through my HUD clock. The minutes were passing and slowly adding up, and I eventually groaned and pulled myself from the bed. My gear was scattered around, and I knew I had to deal with it. Looking at it, I felt unmotivated again, so I ignored it for now.
I got dressed and headed downstairs after locking my door.
The common room was packed with the usual suspects plus additional guests. One of the servers saw me, and she directed me to a table.
"I'll bring your food in a few minutes." She told me.
"Thanks. If Isabel is around here, let her know I need to speak to her; it's nothing urgent." The server nodded and wandered away.
She soon returned with the morning meal, and I began eating almost mechanically. Whatever this ailment was, it also affected my sense of taste, making everything bland. Just eating the food was turning into a task in itself.
I looked around as I ate. I could see Tavern guests and many local workers who came here for breakfast. No one stood out to me as paying any attention to what I was doing. There wasn't any looking at me or in my direction, which I think was a good thing. That meant that my status had not been revealed yet, but I still had to be aware of those around me after my run-in with that Watch squad.
Men like them don't forget being challenged and losing. I had a terrible feeling that they would come for me sooner or later—another problem to add to the list.
I was in no rush today, so I took my time, not willingly, but because of this strange ailment. I was feeling depressed, but part of me was thankful that I hadn't acquired any eldritch corruption from it. The danger of fighting such things was that there was always a chance of gaining more corruption. The more powerful the eldritch horror, the more corruption you can earn. Undead were down at the bottom of that list, but they could still give me corruption. I was lucky just to get away with the grave chill.
That's what the logical side of me said. The rest of me didn't care.
Isabel walked across the room, talking to people, slowly making her way in my direction. It seemed that the server had told her of my desire to speak. I hadn't seen her daughter, Mica, at all this morning. That was not unusual, but I generally saw her running around doing chores for her mother.
She came over to my table.
"Hector, you look terrible." She said by way of greeting. She had become comfortable enough to drop the more formal use of our occupational titles. It was not a sign of friendship but one of more acceptance of regular contact.
"I encountered an unexpected surprise yesterday. It left me with an ailment I have to deal with." I don't want to get into details.
"Is it contagious?" She asked, slightly worried. A contagious virus could easily spread through the Tavern and the surrounding area due to the high population density.
"No," I told her firmly, which seemed to relax her.
"What did you want to see me about?"
"I wish to rent my room for another ten days, if possible." I had one day left, but it's best to deal with this now when I have the money.
"Of course. That will be another thirty silver. Do you want to pay now or later?" She asked.
"I'll pay now, best get it done." I brought the three remaining gold coins I had in my dimensional storage ring and passed them over to the tavernkeeper. Her eyebrows shot up, and she saw the three gold coins and quickly took them from me.
"Don't see gold often down here." She said absentmindedly as she made the coins disappear into one of the pockets in her dress.
"I had a bit of windfall yesterday, so I thought I'd better make sure I don't have to worry about some things."
She sat down across from me, which was unusual. "I heard that you had an encounter with the local Watch yesterday."
She lowered her voice slightly, and I could hear the concern in her tone.
"It seems like word has spread rather fast." I leaned back in my chair as I spoke.
"I heard that you saved someone from a beating from Vincent and his crew. To be clear, it was both brave and stupid. Vincent is known in Low Town as he was born and bred here. He is a nasty piece of work who doesn't forget or forgive." I could hear the concern, and I saw her looking around her eyes, mostly darting towards the doors.
Watching her reaction, I had a terrible feeling that I might have caused more trouble than I realised.
"You're not worried about me, you worry about me bringing trouble to your door," I said softly as it suddenly dawned on me why she was acting at that moment.
She turned and looked at me straight on with no apology in her features or tone when she spoke. "I am. I'm fearful for my daughter and my business. Vincent is a nasty piece of work, like I told you, and is willing to spread the pain if he has to. Best watch your back in Low Town, especially at night."
That sent a shiver up my spine this time, not caused by grave chill. It had not occurred to me that this Vincent or his crew would target people around me to get to me. I honestly thought he would come directly for me, but it seems they were more sadistic than I realised.
"Thanks for the warning," I told her. She nodded, got up from the table, and headed back through the room, talking to customers as she went.
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I finished what was left of the morning meal and headed back to my room. Once inside, I looked around and took stock of my gear. I still had time to spare before I needed to go to the Arsenal to collect my mace. I had maintenance work to do, so I got on with it.
It was slow going due to my condition. I went through all my gear, cleaning what needed it and checking the condition of the rest. I was going to need to drop off quite a bit of my armour for repair soon, especially the gauntlets, as their condition was deteriorating gradually. They could still function for quite some time, but I decided that before arriving, I would ensure everything was kept as close to fully repaired as possible.
I had used up the morning hours, but I was still too early for the mace collection. The shutters in the room were open, and I could see that the day was still clear and bright. I need to get out of this room, and I was trying to clear the fog in my head.
I didn't put on my armour because I wasn't expecting trouble, but some part of me decided to be safe and put on my belt. It carried my pistol and club. I didn't want trouble, but I have to be prepared for it now. Isabel's warning about Vincent still echoed in my head.
Once I made sure the belt was secured, I left my room and locked the door. Rechecking it to make sure it was closed.
I set the destination in my HUD to the Arsenal. I turned and walked down the corridor, then the stairs, and eventually out into Low Town. I stepped out into the bustle and smells of the city.
I began navigating through the crowds and traffic heading towards the merchant section. I saw members of the Watch as I walked. None of them approached me, but I could tell that they had noted my presence. To those showing more interest in the others, I lifted my hand and casually showed them my tattoo. Once they saw it, they nodded and moved on. I was attracting a bit more attention from the locals as well, as you didn't often see an armed man walking down the street who wasn't dressed in armour.
Eventually, I left Low Town. I was now walking through the merchant section. I slowed down and began to inspect the shops and the merchant as I passed. They were hawking their wares or letting their display speak for them. A few try to attract my attention with different deals and offers, but I simply move on. I was window shopping only. My budget was still tight.
I reached the Arsenal, and the shop was slightly busier than it had been the last few times I had been here. I could see several customers inside, and two were clearly adventurers, as indicated by the tattoos I spotted on the back of their right hands. I had not entered and was looking through a window. I was looking at the firearms displayed in the right-hand window, while the left-hand window showed close-combat weapons.
One of the things in the window that caught my attention was a selection of shotguns. I was contemplating acquiring one if my finances allowed me to do so soon. There were several types on display, and unsuspecting, I was going to need a close-in model. If things were as bad as some people claim in the undercity, I would need to go down there. Having a long-barrelled shotgun would be a disaster so that I would need one of the cut-down-barrelled varieties.
I realised I was procrastinating, so I bit the bullet and went in. It was quieter now.
The bell rang as I passed through the threshold. I recognise the young man in the shop as the one who was here yesterday. He seemed to recognise me as well, as he nodded as I entered.
"I will let Smith Albert know that you're here." He walked over to the left-hand side of the store and stuck his head through the curtain, speaking to someone beyond. He passed this message on and returned to his position in the store. I perused the wares as I thought.
Smith? I was surprised by the title, but I expected it to be more apt than merchant. He always had the look of a blacksmith, and that could mean that most of the weapons here were made by him. I could hear the faint ringing of metal striking metal.
Albert appeared smiling from the curtain. I noticed he was carrying the mace I discovered, but it was wrapped up in a velvet blanket. He took a moment and looked around the shop before setting it down on the counter as I approached him.
"Adventurer Hector! What a find, Sir! What a find!" He said far too enthusiastically as he unwrapped the mace. I looked down at it when he finally revealed it. It was clear that it had been worked upon and cleaned up. What had got him so worked up?
"A classic style Hylore war mace. Made from black iron and midnight oak, all cleaned up. I have replaced the leather wrist strap at the bottom and re-wrapped the grip section." He indicated the various additions he had made to the weapon. "But last, I discovered a secret."
He left that with a dramatic pause.
"Which is Smith Albert?" I knew he wanted me to ask, so I played along.
"This good Sir is an uncommon grade weapon that the System enhanced!" He exclaimed.
I looked down, surprised that the mace was between us. Nearly all items available for purchase or trade are of the standard grade. Expert crafters can make higher-quality items. Common, Uncommon, Exquisite, Rare and finally Legendary with the grades. The very best craftsmen can make Exquisite items; anything else has to be what is called System-enhanced to be rated higher. These weapons came with hidden triggers or requirements that, once met, brought them fully to life. They were known as evolving weapons, as sometimes you can trigger further evolutions within the weapon, increasing its abilities and quality. Famous individuals sometimes owned such weapons, and they became infused with their actions. Their great deeds committed created the weapon in the first place.
Items that the System has enhanced are changed. Sometimes it is subtle, but sometimes it is something massive. If I could activate its hidden trigger, the weapon would bond to me, granting only me access to its ability. I trigger my [Identify] skill and look at the mace.
"I can see that you're using [Identify]," Albert said as I looked over the weapon. "The mace still sleeps. Once you have discovered its hidden trigger, it will fully activate. But this is an evolving weapon, so treat it right, and who knows what you will gain."
Evolving weapons were exceptionally expensive and complicated to secure, and here I was, the owner of one. I could sell it, and even in this unawakened state, it would fetch a hefty price. I could use those funds to upgrade all of my gear and weapons. But I kept the mace and awoke it; the benefits could be far greater.
I looked up at Albert, and he had an unreadable expression on his face. He was awaiting my decision. And I was torn.
I looked back down at the mace and picked it up. It was heavy, and I could feel my arm straining just holding it, but it still felt strangely right. I will need to boost my stats to use it for a long time. I looked it over, turning it in my hand and viewing it from different angles.
I knew the answer. "Thank you for your work, Smith Albert. Me and my new mace and I have got quite a bit of work ahead of us."
He once again smiled, happy with my decision, it seemed. "Bring it back whenever you need to have work done on it. If you find out what the trigger is, I would be greatly interested to see it when it is awake."
I thanked him again and left the store before I did. I placed the mace into my storage ring. Walking back out into the street, I was a bit more distracted. The grave chill was still affecting me, but now I was thinking about my new mace. I quickly checked on the countdown, seeing I only had a few hours left. It looked like I was actually going to get some sleep tonight.
I started back towards Low Town. I was heading back to my room. I needed to think about the mace and what it could mean for my future. The problem was that I had to stay aware as I travelled to avoid any issues or ambushes. Ilsabel's warning still echoed in my head.
Vincent and his other cronies in the Watch could cause me trouble. I was no fool to think that they would not find out who I was or where I stayed. I had to move carefully to avoid trouble or a knife in the back.
I crossed to the city again, the route becoming quite familiar to me now. I reached The Poor Man's Dream close to dinner time. My stomach spoke to me, reminding me that I hadn't eaten anything all day, and my throat was a bit dry. I walked over to a table and sat down, and the service staff nodded to me. It was a bit early, but I was not in any rush. I ordered up a beer to pass the time. It arrived promptly.
Sitting there, sipping the beer, gives me time to think about what I learned about the mace. I had so many options now. I didn't want to sell the weapon, but it was an option if my finances became difficult. But if I activated it, who knows what it could do?
I was nursing my beer as I contemplated all the possible paths before me. I've zoned out a bit and wasn't paying attention to the room around me. People are coming to and from the room, which is normal. It suddenly occurred to me that there had been a notable drop in the ambient room noise. There was always an ongoing series of conversations, even when there were few patrons.
I blinked rapidly and looked around to see what was going on.
Most of the people present were all doing their best not to look at a man standing at the bar. Most received glances or side-eye but did their best to avoid his attention. He was talking to one of the barmen, and he pointed in my direction. The man turned and looked to where I was sitting. Across the room, I could see the Watch uniform he was wearing, and from the insignias, he was an officer.
I swore quietly and sat up straighter as he approached my table. He was not as tall or broad as I was, but I could tell he could hold his own in a fight. He was in his late 40s and had salt-and-pepper hair. He was clean-shaven, but his face bore the marks of a hard life. As he drew nearer, I noticed small scars on his nose that had been broken several times.
"Greetings, are you Adventurer Hector?" He spoke in a gravelly voice, issuing barking orders. The man's presence was intense and could easily intimidate most people. I am far older than I appear and have a bit more experience with such people. But he is a force to be reckoned with.
"I am, Sir. How can I help you?" I keep my tone calm. I am not sweating right now, ironically, due to the grave chill.
He pulls the chair out from the table across from me and sits down without invitation. A power play if I ever saw one.
"I am Greystone. I have sought you out due to rumours of an altercation between you and one of my Watch squads." He placed his hands on the table before him and never blinked as he spoke.
"What if there was an altercation?" I stared right back, doing my best to hide my growing discomfort.
"Well, as the local Watch Captain, I must investigate. If this is the case, please tell me what happened?" He never broke eye contact.
I resisted gulping as I realised I was so screwed