Hunger: A LitRPG Adventure (Unbound Book 3), page 19
Never know when it'll come in handy. None were particularly impressive, level-wise, but that was hardly their fault. Have to imagine it's hard to gain levels packed into a city. Can you gain experience from tasks other than fighting?
He hadn't thought to ask that before.
The Elven bartender was named Wylla and was just past her First Formation. She boasted an impressive level of 32, and Felix assumed she must have been a Guilder at some point, unless serving drinks earned you experience. As he'd noticed before, she moved with an easy grace that meant either a Skill or high investments in Dexterity and Agility. She was wearing a simple linen shirt, leather bracers, and a pair of coarse woolen pants that laced up the side of the legs.
No weapons, he noticed as he followed her into the kitchens. Are they hidden? Or does she not—
"You done gawking, farmboy?"
Felix jerked to a stop and lifted his eyes from Wylla's waist. She was giving him an arch look, her almond eyes narrowed. He blushed fully this time.
"No, I'm just—"
"Uh huh," she said, cutting him off and turning toward the rest of the kitchen. A Gnome woman was busy nearby, directing a small staff of Dwarves cooking a variety of things. The place was a riot of noise and smells, all of which hit Felix's senses at once. His stomach growled, loud enough that the Gnome turned in alarm. She smiled when she saw the Elf.
"Oh Wylla, dear, you're back. Is that big lug finished back there?" She huffed an annoyed breath. "Those lazy gamblers take advantage of any reason not to work."
Wylla nodded her head casually to the left, and the Gnome's big eyes followed. The moment they landed on Felix, she let out an impressive squeak of fright. "Oh dearie me, I didn't… ah… please, help yourself. We made food for you."
With an embarrassed flourish, the Gnome woman disappeared behind a large Human that suddenly stepped in front of her. Felix's eyes tingled slightly, a sensation annoyingly similar to a mounting sneeze. With a minor effort, he flared his Manasight. The Gnome was still there, he discovered, the Human form was simply an illusion she had crafted and swirled with purple Mana. Felix smiled, more than a little impressed at the casual crafting.
Wow. He gazed a little longer at the slightly transparent illusion. How does it work? It's like light but that isn't light Mana—
Wylla snapped her fingers at him, and Felix blinked away his Manasight.
"Hey, 'big lug.'" She gestured to a couple steaming dishes on a tray before him. "Take it. On the house, this time."
"Really? Why?"
"Jacinda appreciates when people help out. Hauling that water usually takes half the morning and tires out our people." The Elf shrugged. "That's worth at least a free meal, yeah?"
Felix smiled, and the Elven woman rolled her eyes in annoyance before shooing him out of the kitchens with his platter of food. He found himself in the short, private hallway again, but he could hear crowds gathering in the common area. Tapping a finger gently against his tin tray, Felix nodded to himself before heading up the stairs to his room.
An unlocked door and a quick conversation with Pit had the two of them Converge. If the shift reared its ugly head again, Pit seemed to be one of the few who could snap him out of it. He couldn't hide away in their rooms forever, not if they planned to live anything close to a normal life on the Continent.
Bracing himself—a task far easier with Pit as co-captain—Felix went back downstairs to eat their food.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Felix found a spot easily enough. The common room was starting to get busier as the sun rose higher, but it was still quieter than he expected. Most everyone around him looked worried, and the usual boisterous talk was cut by a great deal of whispering and low voices. A few folks eyed him as he passed, and Felix read a great deal of wariness in everyone.
He settled in an empty table at the far end of the room, next to the cold stone hearth. The Drum Tank had two medium-sized windows on the front, south-facing side of the building, but the rising sun barely illuminated the common room due in part to the mountains. The other part was the Eyrie, the Guild fortress itself at the center of Haarwatch. Its looming edifice cast a shadow across much of the Dust, Felix had noticed.
His workout had left him with a buoyant feeling that was swiftly evaporating. Felix desperately tried to retain it. He focused on his food. He had been served a thin porridge, several rashers of thick bacon that was both incredibly aromatic as well as enticingly fatty. Two eggs were hard boiled and set in a little bowl, and there was an entire loaf of that same dark bread. A local specialty, he assumed.
It was goddamned delicious.
Pit whined in his head, the tenku's hunger a rumbling tattoo in his Spirit. Once Felix started taking bites, however, his Companion quieted. That answered a question that had been percolating: did Pit gain any benefit from Felix's meals while Converged? Apparently yes, though he'd have to do more testing. It might turn out he was more hungry when the two Companions fused, after all. Felix felt entirely ravenous this morning. The combination of the workout that morning and last night...
Don't think about it. He shook his head. Not now.
Instead, as Felix chowed down, he turned his ear outward toward the folk all around him. They were quiet, but talk persisted in varying levels of murmur. Merchants and travelers complained the loudest, stuck in Haarwatch going on a month now. Plenty of locals put in their two cents, small groups of them stringing together whispered questions about the night before. About the attack.
It was not a common event, Felix learned. The Wall was attacked near constantly, but the times things got through the Wall and into the city? Such events could be counted on one hand. The Wretches and their ilk hadn't hit this far into the Dust, however, and many of the people there were speaking with second or third-hand accounts of it all.
"Down near Cordage and Riverwalk is what I heard," muttered a nearby man, a Human though short and stocky enough for any Dwarf. He was nursing a tall wooden mug. "Yyero-cursed things came outta the sky. Landed on houses and shops, crushing everythin' inside."
"They flew in?" asped a Half-Orc at the same table. They were all dressed in simple tunics and trousers, all of them heavily patched with thick leather. Laborers at the mines or river docks, Felix figured. "How'd they even get in?"
"Me cousin said they flew over the Wall. Overwhelmed the Guilders." A Dwarf at their table with a sable beard spat onto the floor. "Twins-damned adventurers. What use are they?"
The Dwarf's voice was louder at the end, and more than a few patrons cheered at the words.
"Who needs ‘em!"
"Blight the Guild!"
"Hey, hey!" cried a Human, this one with a set of narrow shoulders and large mustache. "The Guilders protect us, yeah? They've been doin' it this long. They'll know what ta do. Even if they can't help, the Pathless will provide. The Inquisition is here."
A few more grumbles around the room, this time of grudging assent. Another Dwarf, however, one with two braids done into his blonde beard grunted at the man. "Guilders weren't here, Davy! Redcloaks neither! Dusters ain't important enough for ‘em to come."
That's true, realized Felix, still absently munching on half a loaf. I didn't see any Guilders until the end. Where were they?
"Truth, Lino!" shouted the sable-bearded Dwarf from across the room. "But what about that man what fought em off?"
Oh no. Felix felt the bread turn to cement in his gut. He snuck a glance around the room and tried not to grimace. Everyone was looking toward the Dwarf.
"What man?" asked someone.
"Ye didn't hear?" smiled the Dwarf, his face grinning wide now that he realized he had the whole room as an audience. "He was a terror. Fought the damn bugs off with nothin' more'n his fists! Saved the whole Quarter!"
"I heard a'that," said the Half-Orc, snapping his fingers. "Someone said he was throwin' around lightnin' like a mage."
"A mage fighting with his fists? That's mad," sputtered a Hobgoblin nearby, her large nose up in disdain. "You're spinning tales, boys."
"No no! It's true! Swear on Ave—on that Pathless' altar!" The black-haired Dwarf leaned forward and pointed southwesterly. "Me cousin was down at the Coldforge when it happened. Giant bugs, twice again as tall as a Human, armed with swords fer arms and vicious teeth. They shook the earth and screamed such terrible noises. Ye all heard it, I know it."
Nods passed around the room, and a few more folk crowded in. The dwarf, Favar according to his Eye, kept speaking.
"They came down Cordage, down Riverwalk, skippin’ over the rooftops a' the Orthin thoroughfare. Ten, twenty of them. More and more, an’ they killed everything they saw." Favar swallowed and someone passed him a mug of ale. He slung it back. "Dusters was dyin', you all know it. But then this man showed up, a huge brute with lightnin' cracklin’ from his hands and covered in deadly weapons. He leaned into em, slaying the bugs left an right!"
"I thought you said he used his hands?" Someone said.
"He did! He didn't need the weapons, he was so strong! Alone against dozens, he killed ‘em all."
The crowd in the Drum Tank grew quiet as the Dwarf kept speaking. Even Felix leaned forward a little.
"He was mad. Jumpin about, tackling the bugs like… like I ain't never seen."
"You ain't seen him. Yer cousin did," someone accused. Favar waved them off.
"That lightnin' in his hands? It couldn't be stopped! Crashed into them like a Silver Rank, don't mistake it!" Favar held up his hands, fingers curved. "Had hands like claws, teeth like a wolf, eyes of fire! A fiend! A monster fightin' monsters!"
The common room went deathly silent, all eyes riveted to Favar as he puffed out his chest. "He saved the Dusters. The man saved ‘em all."
Then, tentatively, another voice whispered.
"I heard he had a Chimera followin' him. Like a hound." A shudder. "Unnatural."
There was a pause, before one, then everyone started talking at once. The quiet atmosphere was shattered as laborers and merchants and tradesfolk all vied to share stories of this strange new being that saved them. Felix's eyebrows crept up and up as he heard more and more fanciful rumors being bandied about. After a while, they weren't even based in truth. He could fly, he could explode people with a look, he ate the bugs with a single bite.
Well, that last one hit a little close to home.
"A toast!" cried Favar, and several others took up his cry. "A toast to the Hero of the Dust! To the Blue-Eyed Fiend!"
Oh Jesus Christ. Felix sank into his chair as a few more cheered. It took all his Willpower not to bury his face in his hands.
Felix ordered two more servings of his breakfast as he waited for all the commotion to settle down. Just thinking about all the wild tales that were now circulating about him made him groan in embarrassment. But he was hungry as hell, and the food was just barely enough to satisfy the Companions' Converged stomachs.
He was just finishing up when he heard familiar voices in the common room.
"Why? Why'd it happen to me?"
Felix half-turned in his seat and saw three Goblins in flowing robes sit at a nearby table. He had listened to them banter just he other day, but Gnokl, the Goblin currently holding his head and moaning, had been in far better spirits.
"What happened, Gnokl? Were you attacked?" The slender Lotr was sitting adjacent, wringing her hands.
"All I did was buy up all the meat I could for paeti! When the Festival started, the vendors of that delectable dish would've had to pay through the nose!" He slammed a fist into the table, barely rattling the cups nearby. "Then those d-damn bugs smashed my warehouse! They landed on it!"
"It'll be okay," comforted Lotr, her oversized freckled face creased in concern. She patted a gentle hand on Gnokl's back. "You can rebuild, right? Did your laborers get hurt?" She gasped. "Did anyone die?"
"What? I don't know. That's not the po-o-o-oint!" Gnokl gasped. "My crooooowns!"
The only other Goblin at the table, Hartl, leaned back and laughed, loudly. She had a sharp expression, and her nose was even bigger and pointier than the others. "Could be worse! The Butcher coulda got ya!"
"The Butcher can have me! I'm ruined!" Gnokl moaned at her, his eyes red and leaking fat tears. "That meat was priceless! Impossible to get! I had to barter with damn Guilders for that Domain flesh!"
"Just, ah, just do it again?" Suggested Lotr innocently, at which Gnokl snarled.
"Do it again!? It cost me all my extra gold to get what I did! And now the redcloaks are locking up everything! Including the Twin's-damned Domain!" His face sunk into his arms again, and his sobs began anew. "I'll never recover! I just won't! I can't!"
Felix chewed his last few bites of soft bread, thinking. He was going to a Domain soon enough—as long as Atar held up his end—and the smiths at the Coldforge already gave him the idea to collect materials to sell. Why not get monster meat, too? Can't be too hard, right? He scratched his jaw in contemplation. He'd have to get an enchanted skinning knife like Magda had, but it was possible.
He walked over to the Goblins. Taller than them by at least three feet, Felix loomed over them. "I hope you don't mind, but I overheard what happened. I'm sorry to hear it."
"What's it to you, tall boy?" Hartl demanded, her green face curdled in dislike. "This is Goblin business!"
Felix was taken aback, briefly, but fought to keep that from his expression. "I uh, apologize. I was just curious to see if you would like my help."
"Help?" Gnokl asked, lifting his head from his arms. His face was streaked with tears and snot. "You'll help? How?"
"I am going into the Domain soon. We could make a deal."
Gnokl's face lit up, but Hartl snorted in contempt. "As if we'd just trust some nobody."
Felix held up his hands and smiled gently. "I'm just offering." He turned toward Gnokl. "If you're interested, just let Jacinda or Ignatius know you're looking for me. I'm staying here."
"What's yer name?"
"Just ask for the… Wanderer. She'll know." He stepped away and headed out the door, not stopping even when the Goblins began to furiously whisper.
Hopefully that hook sinks in, but either way, I have some prep to do. And before he could begin on that, he had to pay a visit to Caerwin.
I just hope she has what we need.
Pit chirruped excitedly.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Before he'd taken two steps out of the Drum Tank, lights of gold and blue sparked across Felix's vision. They swarmed at the corners before resolving in a blue notification box and the faint sound of trumpets.
New Skill!
Negotiation (Uncommon), Level 1!
You've learned words have many uses, and one of them is to make a profit! Increases how favorably a target treats you slightly per Skill level.
Felix blinked the lights and notification away and felt at his center. Another symbol etched in the faintest of lights was there, scribed upon the murky dark of his core space.
"Hey! Move it, Pinky! People are tryin' ta eat!"
Felix blinked, his visualized core fading away to be replaced by the lumbering form of an Orc laborer. The man was taller than Felix by a foot, his skin a dark purple-green, and he had tusks that jutted out nearly six inches from an impressive jaw. A line of folk stood behind him, all trying to enter the inn.
"Oh, sorry," Felix muttered, and hopped off the porch. The line of laborers grumbled in his direction but passed him by without further fuss. Which was good, as Felix found himself entirely absorbed in his core once again.
How the hell did I gain another Skill? Felix mentally poked and prodded the symbol in his core, but it was fully and entirely there. He was fairly certain why he'd gained it, but not how. In the Void, the System had felt thin as a whisper, barely giving him any Skill levels at all. Now that he was thinking on it, the System felt thick as treacle, yet it flowed around and through him as if on the breeze. Was it because of his nature? Being Unbound? He recalled learning Parry in a similar fashion, when Vess had taken a swing at him in the Foglands. That blue-gold glow. The energy of the System?
Recalling Cal's words the other day, Felix knew his best bet was to speak to the former Archivist-turned-bookseller. Despite the dread that crawled over him at the thought, she might tell him more about the System, Nym, and Unbound as well. So long as she wasn’t too mad about his reorganization, that is. He’d gotten a little carried away there.
Caerwin first. Then Zara.
A warm wind kicked up in the streets, blowing the ubiquitous dust in long streamers along the ground. Felix hustled through the crowds, noticing that the sky was darker than it was at dawn. The clouds hung low, and he could smell rain in the air. Felix was almost annoyed he'd thrown that tattered cowl away, that is, until he noticed the first redcloaks.
Many were just wandering the crowds, more of them patrolling through the Dust than he'd seen before. But what did he know? He'd only been in Haarwatch a few days. However, what caught his attention the most was when several Acolytes stopped a couple wearing hooded cloaks.
The redcloaks pulled the couples' hoods back and exposed the faces of a pair of Human women, girls really, both equally surprised. What followed was a series of jabbing fingers and close talking. If he had been any closer, he might have caught what, exactly, the Inquisition was doing, but he saw all of it from across the busy street. Not even his Perception was good enough to bridge that gap.
He saw the same thing happen again and again. The redcloaks were singling out people in hoods and cowls, anyone who hid their face. The more he saw it, the more a sinking suspicion formed in his gut. When he saw an Acolyte peer into a cloaked Hobgoblin's eyes, he cursed.
They're looking for me. Shit.
He got off the street, heading down a narrow alley between a butcher and cooper. The last thing Felix wanted was an in-depth conversation with the Inquisition. Not even if they were going to hand him a reward for fighting off those monsters.
