The Pursuit of Power, page 6
“I will be back in just one moment.” The young woman put everything on a metal tray and went to the back of the guild hidden behind a partition.
“What do you think we’ll get?” Jax asked.
Vincent had no clue. So far he only knew the value of basic things. A cheap cup of tea was around two copper coins. A bag full of common herbs could go for about thirty copper. And he knew that a level four gray wolf’s core was worth about twenty copper a piece.
With a meal costing five to ten copper at a small place and renting a cell-sized room going for three silver, around three hundred copper, Vincent was getting by and making steady progress with the wolves. But none of that told him what a level fifteen werewolf cloak would be worth. The only thing he was really learning was that the more skill someone had the more they could charge, and the more risk they took on the more they could reap.
Vincent shrugged and Jax bumped him on the shoulder with his fist. “Don’t worry, I know this one is good.”
The young woman came back out after correlating prices and calculating costs. She set the tray back down on the counter between them, but now the items were all gone and in its place was a cloth pouch.
“The price comes out to twenty six silver and forty nine copper.” she said.
Vincent’s eyes went wide. “Really?!”
“Whoohoo!” Jax let off a hollar and pumped his fist in the air.
Vincent turned to him in disbelief. “Is this really correct?”
“You bet it is. What did I tell you. You gotta trust me on these things. Rich people love clothes, and that is a rare drop if I’ve ever seen one.”
Vincent looked back at the counter and the cloth bag filled with coins. This was a lot of money. Even his half would pay for four months of rent. If he kept eating just two meals a day and saved as much money as possible, he could actually stop worrying. Vincent could almost feel his feet getting lighter at the thought.
“First step of many.” Jax said, interrupting Vincent’s thoughts. Jax reached over the counter and unstrung the cloth pouch. The cloth fell and the small shimmering pile of silver coins was revealed.
Vincent and Jax both stared in awe. Real money, money that could make a difference. This wasn’t chump change anymore. Vincent stared at it with a silence and stillness, as if he were to look away the silver might vanish into thin air. But Jax leaned in closer, his eyes growing wider, his mouth creaking open so the hint of gold around his teeth shined. Both sets of eyes locked the coins into place.
“Will that be all for you today?” The young woman said.
Snapped out of their delusion, the boys looked up at her as she stared awkwardly down at them.
“Oh, yes, thanks.” Jax said, grabbing the pouch.
“Thank you very much.” said Vincent.
They both quickly turned around and walked back down the red carpet aisle and into the main gathering space of the guild. As they wandered toward one of the open benches, Jax holding the pouch close to his chest, Vincent noticed for the first time that the right half of the guild hall was taken up by a group of people. There had never been this many people in the guild before, let alone a single group.
They were all covered in sets of full armor, ranging in colors, but each polished to shine and gleam off the sun that was filtering through the windows. And Vincent could see that they were all actually quite young. Late teenagers with soft eyes and even softer looking skin.
“Who are they?” Vincent asked.
Vincent kept looking at the crowd, but no answer came from Jax. Vincent turned to his left to see what was going on and stopped as he saw Jax’s face. His eyes had turned sharp, burning a path through the room, his nose flared and he clenched his teeth. His slicked red spikes made him look like a tiger arching its back in defense.
His joyous and almost constant casual demeanor was nowhere to be seen.
“What’s Wrong?” Vincent asked out of worry.
“Those,” Jax nodded at the group across the room, “are pigs.” His mouth twisted in disgust as he said the word.
“Whaat?” Vincent let out a comical elongated question.
Jax’s anger and annoyance almost broke into a smirk at the sound Vincent let out, but any sign of amusement at Vincent or his own comment quickly vanished.
Vincent had done it instinctively in the hope to surprise or flustering Jax free of his sour mood, but after it failed he recognized how serious this was.
Jax kept his eyes forward. “If you really want money, fame, or power in this city then you need to make a name for yourself in the dungeon.”
Vincent’s attention piqued at the mention of the dungeon.
“But there are only two ways you can become a dungeoneer.” he continued. “You can be like the rest of us and get stronger, then hopefully get a chance to take the dungeoneering exam.”
“You have to pass an exam?” Vincent asked.
Jax sighed. “You really know nothing do you? What rock have you been living under?”
“Quite a big one.” Vincent added with a grin.
Jax almost broke again but he kept his eyes ahead on the group. “Yes, but its a test of your skills. Everyone takes it to make sure they are qualified to enter the dungeon. And the guild puts high requirements in place so that no one too young or too weak gets themselves killed with a head full of dreams.” Jax rolled his eyes at the crowd in front of them. “This is when those stuck ups come in. The only other way made available for entry is called the quarterly trial.”
“They take a small group of promising dungeoneers and give them the straight path to earning a license. They go in the dungeon, do a song and dance, and get to cut the line.”
“So they’re some sort of elite fighters or something?” Vincent asked.
“They’re only elite in one sense. They get to be the chosen few because their mothers and fathers run this city and have enough coin to buy their kids into the system. They level up nice and slow before anyone gets a chance, making more money and earning more skills than the rest of us. There’s a reason their families can stay in power.”
Vincent looked back at the group. So these were rich kids. The closer he looked the more differences he could make out. Their armor ranged in a myriad of colors and designs, their faces were clean and spotless. Vincent could see how the wealth dripped off of them.
There seemed to be a large group at the center and two smaller clusters at either end. At the center most group, everyone seemed to radiate and turn inward. He followed the gaze of those at the edge and saw a young man with pale skin, long curly copper hair, and freckles across his face. The others seemed to gather around him and push closer to be by his side. He was wearing a set of armor that Vincent had never seen before.
Thick red leather covered his entire body, tight from his neck to waist. Along its surface were plates of metal, around his arms and chest, each carved to look like scales. And down his waist was a skirt of chain metal made from an interwoven scale pattern. The metal was a deep burning orange that flicked like a flame to yellow at the tips of each scale.
The young man was laughing and grinning with the other boys around him. And as Vincent was looking, the young man cast his gaze out across the guild hall, scanning it from one side to the other. His eyes went past Vincent and Jax, over them. But in that moment, Vincent could swear he saw something behind the young man’s eyes. There was a glint that spoke a thousand words. Disgust, disdain, superior than.
Vincent recognized that look.
Those boys, they knew. They knew they were getting better treatment. They knew they got to cut the line. And still they didn’t care. They weren’t humble about it or showed shame. They didn’t even bother to pretend. They just cast their eyes over Vincent.
Now Vincent noticed his own expression. His mouth was tight, his teeth were biting down, and his brow narrowed his vision.
“Who do they think they are, just laughing at others?” said Jax beside him.
Without having to look at one another, Vincent and Jax knew exactly how the other felt. And with that feeling raging around inside him, an idea struck Vincent like lightning. He peered around the room and saw a middle aged woman at the head of the group, leaning back against one of the pillars holding up the ceiling.
“You want to get into the dungeon, right?” Vincent asked.
“We will,” Jax said, nodding. “I’ve done the math. If we keep going at the path we’re on now, then we’ll make it in a few months, maybe the end of the year if I’m wrong.”
“What about right now?”
“What?” Jax stopped and looked over to Vincent, but he was already walking away, making a straight line through the room.
Vincent heard Jax say, “Wait, stop, what are you doing?” behind him in a panicked voice, but it wasn’t loud enough or angry enough for him to have actually wanted him to stop.
Chapter 6
Elisa stood in front of the trial participants. Her line of sight was two feet taller than anyone else, letting her look down at the sea of heads jostling about. Her long dark hair was weaved into a single large braid down her back, with a fine white string crisscrossing and binding it into place. And with broad shoulders and more muscle than an ox, there were no eyes in the room that were daring enough to look back at her.
Elisa drifted her attention down to the clipboard in her hand. An entire page filled with names swooped in perfect penmanship. The curves of their letters almost made her laugh.
Everyone had already showed up. They were not only on time, but efficient at being punctual. They had all come down to the guild in their tradition to sign up for the trial, but Elisa almost scoffed out loud at the thought. Coming down to an outer district as a tradition? Those big birds were letting their little babies take their first steps into the big bad world.
Elisa knew that just like last year and the time before that, this was babysitting.
Elisa leaned back against the column behind her and took another look at the list of names. She scanned them quickly and immediately knew who was taking part.
Two golden goslings, some crony ducklings, and a batch of headless chicks.
Elisa looked up from the list to the actual group mingling in front of her. She eyed them for just as brief of a second as the names, but this time with a more discerning eye.
There was the Lurest kid. Their silver hair at the head of the pack and with a suit so shiny it almost blinded at the right angle. Then at the center was another damn Kriven boy. His hair, the color of fire, stood out against the rest. A smattering of mouths surrounded him, making most of the annoyance that reached Elisa’s ears.
Then she looked at the small clump of children at the back of the group. They held every type of crest and color. They were standing in a group but each of them was alone, wandering about, trying to make small talk with those that stood idly next to them. A bunch of eggs barely hatched.
After surveying all the participants, Elisa let out a sigh. Sadly, it was just as she expected. Nothing much at all.
Elisa went back to looking at the list, trying to figure out the first day. Though only a brief moment passed before she heard a voice beside her.
“Excuse me?
Elisa kept her head down and continued organizing the names. There must have been some idiot making too much noise near her.
“Miss?”
Elisa raised one brow. Was someone really trying to talk to her? And like that? Elisa tilted her head up and looked at a young man with dark black hair and deep green eyes. He was wearing a scratched up set of brown leather armor. No levels to be seen, with just a plain iron sword at his side.
Who is this brat?
Elisa didn’t recognize him. No crest, no color, no wealth on him. The young man just kept staring at her, waiting for her to speak.
“What is it?” she said, looking away from him and going back to her work.
“Miss…?” the young man asked.
“I have no precious name, get out with it.” Elisa said waving her hand but not bothering to look his way.
“Well,” the young man said, “I was hoping I could sign up for the quarterly trial.”
Elisa stopped looking back and forth at names on her chart. She let the young man’s words churn in her head for a moment before she slowly turned and looked him in the eyes.
“You wish to sign up?” she asked.
“Yes.” he said, calmly looking back.
I’ll just scare the kid off.
Elisa put her clipboard down and rose from leaning on the column. Growing to the young man’s height, then passing it, she stood before him like a tower.
“What did you say?” she said, peering down at him with eyes of stone.
It was obvious this kid was not one of the rich brats, just from the way he dressed, but to come up to her and ask such a thing. Was he just an imbecile?
“I am asking for me and,” the young man turned back and gestured to another table across the room, “and my friend to join the quarterly trial.”
Elisa looked over and saw another young man sitting at a bench. He was wearing the same brown leather gear, but had spiked blood colored hair and a grin that curled his cheeks in a disturbing fashion. He looked like some sort of thief or street rat.
Elisa squinted her eyes. She began to wonder if they were both idiots.
“Do you know who you are talking to, boy?” said Elisa.
The young man before her was not taken aback or imposed by her words or stature, he simply stared back up into her eyes and calmly said, “No, I do not know. Apparently, they have no precious name.”
Elisa couldn’t believe this kid. A smile broke across her face and she let out a small laugh. She asked in a more friendly manner, “What’s your name, kid?”
“Vincent,” he said.
Elisa took the time to actually look him over again. She could tell he was a little older, but built well, with height and lean muscle. And he had an eagerness in his eyes.
“Why are you asking to join the trial?” she asked.
Vincent answered quickly. “I want to enter the dungeon.”
Elisa grinned. “Well, you’ve got a tongue on you, but I’m sorry, you can’t just join the trial.”
“Why is that?” he asked, genuine confusion showing on his face.
Elisa bent down and picked up her clipboard. She waved it in her hand. “Everyone on my list has already showed up.” she said.
“If it's a list, then why can’t I write down my name?” asked Vincent.
“Well,” she said, thinking about it for the first time, “there are qualifications to enter.”
“Can I not see if I meet them?” he said.
“Well...” Elisa had run four quarterly trials over the past three years and had never had a walk on before. Everyone knew the unspoken rules and did not try to defy them. But they were unspoken, as well as unwritten.
Invitations to sign up for the trial were sent out by the guild after names were received from scouts and various sources, but the written rules were more flexible. An invitation was not required. One simply needed to be recognized and then show up for the signing.
“You must be strong enough to enter the dungeon.” Elisa said, stating it as if that was enough of a reason for him to not be there.
“How strong?” Vincent asked.
Elisa grinned. He was confident, but not arrogant.
“Show me your status.”
“And my friends?”
Elisa looked back at the odd character. “Very well.”
Vincent led Elisa across the room until he sat down beside Jax at the bench and Elisa was looking over them. Jax squirmed and fidgeted in his seat, but Vincent quickly told Jax what was happening and what to do.
There was a hint of worry in Jax’s eyes.
Elisa spoke up and said, “Don’t worry. I am an official employee of the city’s guild. Your information is safe with me.”
Jax calmed down at her reassurance. They both commanded their screens into full view for Elisa to see.
She looked down at the two screens with a more judging guise than she truly held. She knew they could not make it into the trial, but they did not need them to know that.
I’ll at least see their potential.
It was true that the trial was a place for wealthy families to send their children, but the guild only accepted such a proposal for their own benefit. The guild could properly teach incoming dungeoneers on the rules of their profession as well as steal away a few stragglers before private guilds scooped them up. Elisa’s job was twofold. She ran the trial and had the opportunity to spot potential.
“Let me see.” she said quietly, peering at both screens, back and forth.
Vincent sat patiently while Jax shook his right leg up and down like a dog.
“Oh,” Elisa said with a little surprise, “you have a rare skill.”
“Uh, yeah, I do.” Jax said, blushing a little.
Elisa had already moved on and was looking at other things. Even rare skills meant very little in her mind. She had seen hundreds of them and only the ones that helped in a fight piqued any interest.
“Hm.” Elisa stopped again and took the time to look away from the screen at Vincent. “You have mana?”
“Yes,” said Vincent, “a bit.”
Elisa kept her gaze. “And a magic skill already?”
“Yes, I just got it.”
“Hm.” Elisa wasn’t asking questions as much as taking the time to evaluate Vincent again.
To have magic at such a low. What has he been doing to get that?
Elisa went back to the screens, her eyes conveying just as much discernment, but this time all of it genuine.
Good strength, good defense. Even better endurance. This is better than most their age.
Elisa was a little stunned at their progress. They had already gotten pretty far. Their stats were almost as high as the other participants. The rich kids may not be much, but they had trainers and help for years to be better than anyone in their age group.
These two were a little older, but they were competing with those brats, and just using born talent.
