Jackal Among Snakes

Argrave neatly placed a single piece of paper atop the table in the center of their inn’s room. They had rented a rather large room with six beds intended as a dormitory. It had been more expensive, but Argrave thought it would be best if they slept near each other and no one protested to the idea. He might’ve found another abandoned house as he had in Mateth, but most ‘abandoned’ places in Jast had some ties to smugglers or criminals.

Galamon handed Argrave a small metal rod with inscriptions across its length. Argrave took off his gloves and grasped it. Its tip glowed hot, and Argrave touched it to his skin briefly. It was quite hot.

“Such an interesting tool. Creates burn marks in the paper instead of using ink,” he mused, tapping his finger against its tip again and again. “I digress. We have a lot of things to pick up.”

Argrave pointed his new writing utensil at Galamon and Anneliese, who both stood beside the table. “I’m going to write most of it down. Come, let’s sit.” Argrave gestured to the chairs and sat in one himself. “Let me cast a ward, block off anyone who might be listening…” Argrave provided commentary as he did just that.

“Alright…” Argrave began, voice echoing in the spell of his making. “So, first, there’s the urgent matters. We have to go to the Jast branch of the Order of the Gray Owl to retrieve the shipment of illusion spellbooks for the Veidimen. Considering how long we were at White Edge, they should be here by now… at least I hope,” Argrave shrugged, writing that first item down.

“While there, we can finally pick up some of the books I need there. We’ll be swimming in C-rank spells, you and I,” he said grandly, grabbing Anneliese’s arm. “We can also learn if they decided to accept you into the Order. If fate is unduly kind, you’ll be given full membership. If fate is passably kind, you’ll be given honorary membership—not unheard of for elves, and it suits our purposes. If they refuse you outright… well, I’ll have to teach you spells illegally.”

Anneliese seemed a bit taken aback by this, but Argrave did not give her the time to say anything further.

“After, we’re going to be replacing our wardrobe. Jast has passable craftsmen but an abundance of enchanters. That said, there’s one world-renowned shop here that tailor-makes enchanted leather gear. For a high price, we can get it out of a special material—manticore leather, the like. This is what I’ll be purchasing for us, Anneliese. I think two sets should be sufficient.”

“One for each. Very generous.” Anneliese nodded and smiled.

“Uh, no.” Argrave shook his head. “Two sets for each. I’ll not walk around without changing clothes for months, nor would I subject a companion to the same fate. Besides, they’re sure to be damaged protecting us.” Argrave tapped his finger against the desk, thinking. “If I remember right… the price should be altogether no more than 80,000 gold, depending on the material. I think I’ll offer forty rose-gold magic coins outright… I’m sure I can swing that.”

“Hold,” Anneliese said quickly. “One could buy much in Veiden with that. Even some chiefs of great tribes would never see that much money in their life, before or after Dras’ conquest. Is gold less valued on this continent?”

Argrave opened his mouth to answer, but Galamon took off his helmet and placed it on the table, then set his elbows down loudly. “Gold is likely more valuable here,” he said, voice quiet. “A sizeable family could eat for a day off ten or so gold coins, from what I have seen in my travels.”

Anneliese looked at Argrave with her eyes wide. Argrave gave a nod of confirmation and went to the paper.

“So, 40 rose-gold magic coins from our 164 brings us to 124, or…” Argrave paused, doing the math. “248,000, give or take a little. The conversion rate isn’t 2000 per coin exactly, but it’s close.”

“Wait,” she urged. “Can we be so flippant with money? You do not need to purchase so much whimsically. I would not feel disparaged were you to buy less for me.”

“And why would I do that?” Argrave responded in confusion. “All of you need to be as well-equipped as I am, if not more.”

Anneliese sat there with mouth agape, and Argrave shook his head and went back to his task. “After, we’ll need some enchanted jewelry. Metal holds magic better—as do gemstones, but well-enchanted jewelry is ridiculously expensive. The craftsman has to be able to make a ring to very precise specifications after the initial casting. It takes a jeweler knowledgeable in extremely complex enchantments. As you might imagine, such a person is not exactly common, and so they are quite expensive.”

Argrave pointed to Anneliese and himself. “For us two wizards, I say one ring each. For Galamon… you can regenerate, and rings will be cumbersome anyway.” Argrave wrote that down. “Even with our enchanted leather armor, it would be best not to grow reliant on it. The enchantment should be for protection—I’m thinking a B-rank warding spell at least. I think I’m willing to pay, at most, 30,000 for both of these rings.” Argrave scribbled the figure down, and Anneliese shook her head disbelievingly.

“But now Galamon is feeling neglected,” Argrave continued. “Since Barden, you’ve been walking about with a hole in your armor’s torso. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know you’ll be getting new armor. I can’t afford to have someone else enchant it, but—”

“I’d like to have this set repaired,” Galamon interrupted. “I’ve done it before and I can work with the smith. With two smiths, it would still take around two weeks, though,” he cautioned.

“Don’t like human forging styles, hmm?” Argrave questioned jokingly. “Well, sure. I’m not sure if that can be done, but we’ll see. Next order of business… there’s that crown you took from the ruins a long while ago.”

Galamon nodded. “Will we sell it?”

“No, that’s ridiculous,” Argrave admonished. “It’s an artifact. It uses magic that can’t be replicated anymore. You’d be wearing it right now if it wouldn’t be odd to walk around with a crown on your head in the city streets,” Argrave pointed at Galamon. “We’ll have armor forged around it. Shouldn’t be too difficult. You do recall how much stronger it made you, right?”

“I do,” Galamon nodded. “But protecting the head is too important to use it actively.”

“That’s why we remake it into a helmet.” Argrave spun his writing utensil in his hand. “If it’s just smithing the armor… I suspect it may not even enter a five-digit figure. Spellcasters overvalue their services—go figure,” Argrave said musingly. “I’ll mark another 10,000 for your armor and helmet to be on the safe side for budgeting. So, 208,000 remaining. Time for the real money sinks,” Argrave said with a smile. They both looked overwhelmed.

“Galamon, put your metal weapons and your bow on the table.”

After glancing about, Galamon stood and grabbed his greatsword from the corner of the room. He pulled his dagger from its sheath, and lastly grabbed his bow.

“Do you like all of these?” Argrave questioned as the elf set all of what he’d retrieved down on the table.

“After decades of trial and error, these work best,” he said simply.

“I see that,” Argrave reached forward. The dagger was simple: merely a straight guard and a simple blade, unadorned. The greatsword was not so—it resembled most a kriegsmesser with the blade curving at the end. Argrave touched the sword. “Very nice. Did you get this in the north? I don’t think they make weapons like these in the south.”

Galamon raised a brow. “Yes, it was the north. You know weapons?”

“No,” Argrave dismissed. “I like them, and I know the styles particular to each region, but beyond that I have no damned clue.” Argrave thumped his finger against it, and it rung out. “I’ll get them made to these specifications. For the greatsword, we’ll get powerful offensive wind magic. It’ll make cuts easier, shear through armor as though it were wheat. You can use it at range. It’ll also reduce the damage your blade takes. Less contact.”

“Very prudent for a long journey,” Galamon noted.

“Precisely,” Argrave pointed to Galamon with his writing utensil. “Repairing enchanted stuff is expensive. Other enchantments might be more potent, but they need constant maintenance.”

“So… for a good enchanted greatsword…” Argrave tried to think back to prices in the game. “…my ceiling is probably 75,000.”

There was a palpable discomfort in the room after Argrave spoke the figure. Argrave leaned forward and laid it out. “We’re getting top-end stuff, here. I suspect this’ll be better quality than the royal guard’s weapons. This is equipment that’ll carry us for years. They need a smith that can make the inscriptions for enchantments without compromising the integrity of the blade. A mage and a smith in one.” Argrave leaned back in his chair, feeling his point was made. “That kind of expertise is costly. Don’t balk at the price.”

“It is merely difficult to process you would spend so much for equipment not intended for yourself,” Anneliese finally said.

“Oh.” Argrave nodded, finally seeing things clearly. “If I wanted money, I could make money. It would take time, that’s all. In fact, I’ll probably do a lot of money-making when this great big journey is all over, provided I don’t die terribly during it. For now, I trust two things; I trust you,” he said, grabbing their arms with each hand, “and I trust that you both know the consequence of failure.”

Both of them grew serious when Argrave said that. He tapped their arms and leaned back. “If you die because I was stingy, it would be immeasurably saddening. My success would also be much more far-fetched. So, you’ll take what I give you, I hope,” he concluded, grinning.

Galamon crossed his arms and gave a single nod, and Anneliese eventually conceded too. He deducted 75,000 from the paper.

“Wonderful. Now then. This bow…” Argrave picked it up. “We’ll hold off getting a new one. I’d rather get one from the elves in the Midwest part of Vasquer. They have some pact with the dryads, can get dryad wood… well, not important yet,” Argrave waved his hand and shook his head.

“And the dagger?” Galamon prompted.

Argrave picked up the blade in question. “Probably a fire enchantment that packs a lot of punch. I’m told burning your enemies from the inside is very potent. It’ll be temporary, and probably cost about 20,000.” Argrave wrote that number down on the paper.

“Temporary?” Galamon repeated.

Argrave crossed his legs and leaned back. “I have a set of daggers that you’re going to get eventually, but they’re not the sort of thing you can buy in stores. They’re near House Parbon’s Lionsun Castle.”

“I don’t use multiple daggers.”

“Not yet,” Argrave said simply. “When you see them, you’ll change your tune. You won’t be using them all the time, either, but instead just when we’re fighting… giant things,” Argrave concluded broadly.

“Giant things,” repeated Anneliese incredulously.

“Yes, giant things,” Argrave nodded. “I told you genuine monsters were going to appear, though there’s no shortage of giant things already in this world. Gerechtigkeit is the final test, but he’s got plenty coming before. We’re talking things that make your dragon back in Veiden, Crystal Wind, seem small.”

Argrave did not give them time to digest his words. “I think this is the last thing, now. Those Ebonice daggers that Dras gave me as a gift—I’m going to reforge a great deal of them into arrows.” Argrave pointed to the elven vampire. “You’ll have to do this bit, Galamon. I don’t trust any of the people in this city with Ebonice, as they don’t work with it.”

Galamon nodded. “We’ve done it before back in Mateth. Should be no problem.”

“Good,” Argrave nodded. “We’ll also commission some enchanted arrowheads. I’m thinking… whatever brings us down to 50 rose gold magic coins flat. With that, we’ll have a generous leeway in this budget. The rest of the money I need for my plan with the Amaranthine Heart, appraising the jewelry we got from the tomb, future purchases… and rainy days.”

Argrave wrote that final bit down and tossed down the writing utensil, stretching. Anneliese and Galamon both sat in silence, and the ward blocking their sound finally broke. Anneliese pursed her lips, then hesitantly opened her mouth.

“I don’t think I realized how much money you had.”

Galamon nodded, and another long period of silence stretched out. Galamon tapped his helmet and said, “I regret agreeing to this for only three thousand gold.”

“I was poor then,” Argrave shook his head.

“You had nearly seven thousand gold,” Galamon said.

“Exactly,” Argrave nodded. “That was barely enough for one of these items.”

“That…” Galamon trailed off, and then shook his head.