Riftside 2 - Chapter 45

Half an hour later, scrubbed and slightly less grimy, Eryn and I walked side-by-side down the darkening street. The air was rapidly cooling, and it carried the scent of woodsmoke from the many cooking fires. A pleasant tune played somewhere in the distance, and I guessed that Johan had found a minstrel for the Timberline tonight.

“Where are we headed?” Eryn asked, hugging my arm and looking up at me.

“Victor, then Borin at the brewery, Martha, the seamstress, and old Man Hemlock’s forge,” I said, listing them off.

“Sounds good,” she said. “And Pa seems impressed with Torsten. That’s a big bonus. What if he hadn’t lived up to Knut’s promises? We’d have to feed seven mouths extra and with nothing to show for it.”

“He’s a solid smith,” I agreed. “Learns fast and listens to Pa, which is good. Having him here will help. More than just the extra hands.” 

It felt good having more people we could trust at our backs. Even if it did mean our shield had to be larger and stronger to protect them all.

“But where’s Lysander?” Eryn asked. “I didn’t see him.”

“Pa said he went to the bowyer. Talked about refilling his creative well,” I said.

“Oh?”

“Muttered something about how there’s nothing more inspiring than watching someone screw up uninspired work.” I chuckled. “I think he’s a bit tapped out after forging Arclight. At least it seems he bought the excuse that Pa insulated your gloves well enough to wield it.”

“Wouldn’t mind an actual pair of gloves made from her fur,” Eryn said. We’d both stored our weapons to give us a bit of quiet and alone time. Also, it looked super weird if we carried them around all the time, especially while in Dawnwatch.

“I think that can be arranged, though it’ll have to wait. Everything is on hold until we have paid off this riftrotten debt. It hasn’t stopped Pa from dreaming of what to make once we do, though.” I smiled. “He keeps glancing at Knut’s half-finished sword and he’s muttering of the axe he’ll make.”

“What about Nabeeh?” Eryn asked. “She was asking about some kind of cold-resistant vambraces. Probably if she has to fight against Benedict.”

“He mentioned it,” I said. “Might be possible to use treated Shardfang hide. We’ll see. He’s got a lot spinning around in that head of his.” I glanced at her. “Speaking of new gear… Storm Warden. How does it feel, really? Being an adventurer?”

She was quiet for a moment, her boots crunching softly on the packed earth road.

“I feel… powerful,” she admitted. “Faster. Stronger. Dangerous in a way I never thought of myself before. Like you said, the world feels a bit slower. Arclight…” She hesitated, looking down at her hand, as if she envisioned it holding the bow. “It helps focus. When I draw it back, it’s like everything else fades. There’s just the target.” She made a fist. “Doubt and fear and confusion all fade, and it feels amazing.”

“That’s good to hear,” I said, though something about her tone was off. Power had a way of changing people, and I knew that very well. I had to contend with a bloodthirsty hammer, after all.

Eryn sighed softly. “But it’s not… healing. It’s all instinct and precision and… ending things. It’s strange to me how good it feels. I’m not quite sure what to think of it yet.”

“It’s a big shift,” I acknowledged. “Breaking through is brutal. You have literally and figuratively been remade. I never expected to be a… hammerlord.” I chuckled. “But it seems to be working for me. Do you think the Healer gem and Arclight could have found the right balance and build for you?”

“Maybe,” she murmured. “I still need to talk to Katherine. Explain… well, try to explain. Without revealing everything.” She looked at me and licked her lips. “It’s not like I can fulfill my end of the bargain now and work those hours as a healer. Do you think she’ll understand? Or just think I wasted her time and the gem?”

“Katherine’s sharp,” I said. “And she cares about you. She saw you survive something she thought impossible, but we gave her a gift too. The knowledge that healing helps with breakthroughs should be worth more than any single class gem. I think she’ll respect the outcome. Especially when she sees what you can do. And I figure we promise her the equivalent value in mind gems and it will be alright.”

“I hope so,” Eryn said, and I hugged her close as we reached Victor’s Alchemy shop. 

The door was open, spilling light onto the street. 

We headed in, and I scrunched up my nose at the cloying scent of herbs, chemicals, and something vaguely metallic. Victor looked up from a bubbling retort, his eyes intense behind his spectacles.

“Ash! Eryn! Excellent timing.” He gestured towards a cleared space on his cluttered counter. “The Glowcaps, yes? Golem cores and other goodies?”

“You got it,” I said, and then looked down at his crowded floor. “Perhaps better we step out for the transfer? Might not be the best result for your shop if we drop the golem across your beakers, or if the Glowcap explodes in here.”

“Excellent point!” Victor said, and hurried around the counter, one finger raised to the roof, eyes wide as they could go. 

“To the storage!” 

After carefully transferring the two intact Glowcaps, neither of which contained mind gems, and several dense Ironroot Golem cores, and a handful of the larger, clearer crystal shards from the Strikers and Vanguards, Victor examined them. He commented on their potency and hurried inside to count out the golden coins.

“Fifteen gold, as agreed,” he said. “Barely have it, mind you,” he added, lowering his voice. “Went by the bank earlier to exchange a few spare gems I had processed. Shutters down, tight as a virgin’s…” He trailed off, glancing at Eryn, who raised an eyebrow at him.

“Erh…tighter than a miser’s fist,” Victor finished. “Wouldn’t even open the door. Said they weren’t dealing in gems today. Something’s rotten, Ash.”

My gut clenched. So, it wasn’t just Petra. The blockade was real. 

“Thanks for the information, Victor,” Eryn said. “And for the gold.”

“No. Thank you!” Victor said, smiling at her, before looking to me.

“You know, I’m still interested in those… other Arclight components, when Pa gets to them?” he added, voice conspiratorial.

“Ah, yes. You should hear something from Pa soon, especially if you can gather some gold. For the gallbladder that is. The…” I looked down and shrugged. “There was a decided lack of monster balls.” 

“Oh,” Victor said. “Why?”

“Because it was a female monster, that’s why!” Eryn said, and I chuckled. She was growing closer to her weapon and seemingly felt the need to protect her.

Victor held his hands up at her tone. 

“Apologies! I meant no disrespect?”

“None taken,” she said and shot him a grin. 

“Good, good.” Victor said, and then rubbed his hands together. “Lightning infused gallbladder, eh? Fascinating potential.”

Back on the street, the fifteen gold felt good in my pouch, but the weight of the remaining debt pressed down just as hard. Victor’s news soured the small victory, and not by a little bit.

“Next stop, the brewery,” I said, trying to sound optimistic.

On the way, Eryn picked up the thread of our conversation. 

“It’s just… I spent so long wanting to be a healer, and to mend wounds and help people get well. Now I have Arclight whispering about kill shots and Warden abilities that feel more like… causing damage than healing it.”

“The best defense is a strong offense, right? You told me that the other day,” I said. “The swifter you slay the target, the less likely people are to get hurt. You remember I told you of Madrigal Ironweave, right? The level sixty warrior who saved me and my family? Well, everyone except Samuel.” 

I smiled sadly, thinking back to my best friend.

“I know,” she said. “And I’m not unhappy with my breakthrough. I’m more powerful than I imagined, by far. It’s just… different.”

I kissed the top of her head. 

“It’s okay for you to take some time to digest this. I’ve got a feeling even a normal breakthrough can be hard to deal with. You are suddenly something different entirely, and not by your choosing. Arclight…is definitely potent, and it definitely isn’t smart to complain too much about the direction of the breakthrough. Roq is more like a child, but not Arclight. She’s more cunning.”

She nodded as we stepped into the brewery and its noise. Even in the evening the production seemed to be in full swing. 

Borin, the master brewer, laughed heartily as he waddled over, patting his forehead and jowls with a white cloth.

“Ah, if it isn’t two of Dawnwatch’s heroes!” he boomed, his voice echoing in the large space. “Had a good hunt? Did you get me those Glowcaps? I’ve got a hankering for experimentation!”

“Two of them, Borin,” I said. “Fresh from Riftside. You want to head outside for the swap?”

“Right, right,” he said, following us out. “Glowcaps can cause some trouble.” 

After handing them over, he waddled back inside, his jovial expression shifting, and becoming shrewder. “Speaking of trouble, a little birdie told me you lot ran into a spot of bother, eh? Not so steady on the finances?” He raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, lowering his voice, though not enough that his nearby workers couldn’t hear. “Tell you what. In these tough times, how about I do you a favor? Eight gold for the pair.”

A surge of energy rushed up my spine. 

Eight gold? 

“You know the guild buys as many as they can for five a piece, which is why we agreed to sell you two for eleven,” I said, forcing my voice to stay level.

Borin chuckled, a wet, unpleasant sound. 

“Times change, lad. Heard the bank’s not being too friendly. You’re more than welcome to take these two over to the guild, but if you ask me, it looks like I’ve got you over a barrel, eh?” He grinned, clearly pleased with his own wit and perceived leverage. “Just take the eight. Better than nothing.”

A low growl started in my chest before I could stop myself. 

The workers nearby had stopped their tasks and stood watching us. Big fellows, burly from hauling grain and barrels. 

But not one among them was an adventurer.

“Borin,” I said, my voice dropping, losing its earlier friendliness. “What do you think happens to people in Dawnwatch who side with outsiders? Especially nobles who come here trying to squeeze out folks and cause trouble for the town?” I stepped closer. “You think the bank closing up tight is good for the town? And that this will last forever?”

He tried to bluster, puffing out his chest. 

“Now see here, Ash, I’m just doing business…”

“Business?” I cut him off, the reins on my anger slipping. “You think this is just business?” I swiped out Roq and held him up in front of his face. 

“What are we doing?”

“Your business is adding flavour to water. But me? Twice I’ve fought in the Twisted Titan dungeon. And do you know who killed the Titanfang they carved up to reinforce the gates?”

“I know! I know! It was me! Or, well, us. If we want to get technical with it.”

“The gates that held against that rift-rotted Juggernaut siege monster just days ago?”

“Armor Break.”

“OOoooohhh…yes, I like this! I like this very much!”

Roq’s red glow reflected in Borin’s face as I jabbed a thumb at my own chest. “That was us. My party. Me. And you think you’re being clever, trying to shake us down when House Domitius puts the screws to my family?”

“Oh! I see what’s going on. Good! Let’s smash some barrels!” Roq said. “Nobody puts the screws on me! Except you and Pa when you are upgrading me, and next time you do so, I would request a layer of silk between the leather and the vice.”

Borin’s face had gone pale, his bravado vanishing like mist. 

“My point is, it smells intriguing in here. Maybe beer tastes better mid-brew. So stick me in a barrel and let me have a feel!”

The brewer took a step back, eyes wide, glancing nervously at his silent workers, who offered no support. 

“I… I didn’t mean… Look, I misspoke…” he stammered.

“You think there’s a place here on the frontier for someone who kicks their neighbors when they’re down?” I asked, following him, and lowering Roq to my side. “Someone who forgets that we are the ones keeping the monsters from tearing down his brewery? Is that the pioneer spirit everyone talks about? Is it, Borin?!”

“No! No, of course not!” he yelped, holding up his hands. “An error in judgment! I’ll pay the eleven! Twelve, even! As an apology!”

“Damn. You’re not going to hit him now, are you? And there I got all worked up over nothing!”

Disgust coiled in my stomach. The man was scum. 

Before I could say something I’d regret, Eryn put a hand on my arm and stepped smoothly between us.

“Borin,” she said, her voice calm and too low for the workers to hear, but firm. “How much gold do you typically take in selling beer each day?”

“Oh, yes! This I like. If we go to every shop in Dawnwatch tonight we can get rid of the debt in one go!”

He blinked, thrown off by the sudden shift. 

“Uh… depends. Maybe twenty gold? Sometimes more. But the margins are thin, adventurer, truly…” 

He clearly thought we were about to extort him.

“Good,” Eryn whispered. “Here’s what’s going to happen. For the next four days, you’re going to hold onto that gold. Every evening, I will come by. You will have nineteen gold pieces ready for me, and I will trade you two mind gems for it.” She held up a hand as he started to sputter. “That’s nine and a half gold per gem, Borin. A discount. However, if you manage to scrape together twenty-eight gold by the time I arrive, I will sell you three mind gems. That’s two gold in your pocket for doing nothing but being a good neighbour. A significant boost to your profits, no?” 

He gave the tiniest of nods.

“I see what she’s doing, and I don’t like it one bit, Ash. In this way I won’t get to smash anything. Not even a single barrel!”

“It’s not over yet.”

I glared at the workers, daring them to try and overhear.

“You will not mention this arrangement to a single soul for the next four days,” Eryn continued. “If I hear even a whisper, or if you don’t have the gold when I arrive, I’ll go get Ash, and he won’t be interested in talking business. Do you understand?”

Borin stared at her, then nodded frantically, sweat beading on his forehead. 

“Yes! Yes, adventurer! Understood!” He fumbled with his pouch and quickly counted out the original eleven gold for the Glowcaps, handing them to Eryn with a trembling hand. 

We turned and walked out, leaving the brewer looking shaken and his workers muttering amongst themselves.

Once outside, I took a slow breath and swiped Roq into storage. 

“Riftrot, Eryn, that was…”

“Smart?” she finished, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. “He was trying to use our situation against us. So, we use his greed against him. People always have coins for beer, Ash. Even when times are tough. If the bank won’t give us gold for gems, we find the people who do have gold, which is the townsfolk. We just need to go where they spend it and then make it worth their while to deal directly with us. And yes, maybe we could have forced him to pay ten gold per gem, but this way his greed should stop him from causing trouble.”

I thought about it and she was definitely right. 

Nineteen gold a day minimum, potentially twenty-eight. With four days remaining, that was seventy-six to one hundred and twelve gold, just from the brewery. For eight to twelve gems. It was brilliant. Using the town’s cash flow directly to get our debt settled.

“That’s… really clever,” I admitted and smiled at her. “We should talk to Johan. The Timberline must pull in even more than this place.”

“And maybe Martha? Or Hemlock? Anyone dealing in daily coin,” Eryn mused.

“Yeah.” The path ahead suddenly seemed a tiny bit less impossible. Still a dungeon to run, but now we had a better route mapped out. “We still need the mind gems, but at least we have a potential way of selling them. We cleaned out the easier spots today.” I glanced at her. “Would you be up for tackling something tougher tomorrow?”

She hesitated for only a second. 

“We kind of have to, don’t we? Four days isn’t long.” She met my gaze, her eyes determined. “Let’s see what high paying quests are available.”

“Good,” I said. “And I won’t let anything happen to you. That’s a promise.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” she said with a wink. “You’ve got a Storm Warden watching your back now. Besides, I’m not the weak little girl people still take me for.”

I chuckled. 

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.” 

Eryn playfully punched my shoulder, which now that she was an adventurer, I actually felt. She still ended up being the one wincing and shaking out her hand.

Next was Martha’s Seamstress shop. The one where I had ordered a dress for Eryn.

As we approached, I felt heat creeping up my neck. 

“Hey, Eryn,” I said, stopping a few doors down. “Could you… uh… wait out here for a sec?”

She raised an eyebrow. 

“Why? What’s wrong with Martha’s?”

“Nothing! It’s just… you know… needles, thread… patterns.” I fumbled for a believable excuse. “It’s too… girly. A Hammerlord shouldn’t be seen lingering in a place like that together with his girfriend. Bad for his…reputation?”

She stared at me for a moment, then a slow smile spread across her face. 

“Right. Girly. Wouldn’t want anyone thinking the mighty Ash Aldrich associates with… fabric.” She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms. “Alright, hero. Go face the terrifying world of seamstresses alone. I’ll stand guard against any stray ribbons.”

I shot her a grateful look and ducked inside. Martha, a kind woman with laugh lines around her eyes, looked up from her work.

“Ash! I thought of you just earlier today. Your special order is ready,” she said, gesturing towards a wrapped package on the counter, the size of a folded dress.

“Shhh!” I hissed, glancing back towards the door. “Uh, Martha, that’s great! But listen, could you do me a huge favor? Could you have that delivered to our house tomorrow? But… if I’m not there, give it to Knut. Tell him it’s a gift for Ma. Can you do that?”

Martha’s eyes narrowed with amusement and understanding. “A gift for Ma, delivered to Knut. Got it.” She accepted the pouch containing the crystal shards I offered. “Three gold for these, as promised. They’ll look lovely on Lady Anika’s gown.”

“Thanks, Martha. You’re a lifesaver. Oh, and by the way…” 

After securing a deal with her for gold in exchange for mind gems, I backed out of the shop, trying to look nonchalant as I rejoined Eryn.

“Survive the ordeal?” she asked dryly.

“Barely,” I muttered. “Let’s just go. One more stop.”

Our final delivery was to Hemlock’s Forge, a smaller forge specialized in household goods like pots, pans, hinges, and tools. Hemlock himself was a gnarled old man, perpetually covered in soot. Unlike Pa, he was unmarried. 

He took the four cleaned Steel Scuttler shells without much comment, inspecting their resilience.

“Good shells,” he grunted. “Makes great casseroles. Folks pay well for pots that don’t explode under heat.” He handed over three gold coins.

We left after Eryn convinced him to save his gold for us, heading down the road running through the industrial quarter and to the second ring road, the one that would take us to  the Timberline.

With the thirty-two gold pieces from the commissions and the twenty-five from Petra, we had fifty seven. That left us short four hundred and twenty-one. Four days left. But now we had a plan. A way to bypass the bank’s blockade.

Eryn slipped her hand into mine. 

“It’s a start,” she said softly. 

“Yeah,” I agreed, squeezing her hand. “It’s a start. Let’s go talk to Johan and see just how much gold flows through his tavern, and make sure he’s working on setting up the auction for us.”

“Long as we get a beer while we’re there,” Eryn said.

“Oh, you bet. Then we head home and prepare for tomorrow’s hunt.”

We headed for the cheerful noises spilling from the Timberline, and everything suddenly felt a bit easier.