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Chapter 42 - Asking for a Friend

  Killing

  is easy.

  Bureaucratically

  speaking.

  Killing

  monsters was never wrong, and usually, if you popped into the nearest

  Adventurer's Guild, there could be a reward for killing in addition

  to advancing your ranks.

  Killing

  people is harder, and an active bounty made everything smoother. One

  could just inform the nearest guard of the kills and be escorted to

  the nearest barracks to check out the posters.

  Seventh

  remembered how Branik, the local village guard, had been just a

  little bit nervous to check the most recent notifications. He had

  found three matching posters for the bandits that Seventh had killed,

  and a quick report had been made.

  Back

  at the Adamantine Bastion, Seventh presented the three bodies to the

  City Watch and provided a more detailed report. He didn't even

  remember how he had returned to the city.

  The

  bandits were stripped of their equipment and given to Seventh as a

  bonus. You owned what you killed while doing bounties, but the guards

  made it crystal clear that that didn't mean that Seventh should start

  killing bandits and raise them as undead.

  Some

  things were frowned upon.

  Seventh

  remembered standing outside the barracks, feeling the weight of the

  coins in a pouch.

  The

  weight of three lives.

  All

  of that was becoming hazy afterimages of a long-forgotten memory

  after a long day and short evening of drinking in the Bloated Badger.

  Seventh had dropped the bag of gold in front of Annise and asked her

  to throw him out after the money was spent.

  He

  had a vague concept of time passing by, people moving around him,

  talking, and loud laughter. After a couple of cups, they blurred into

  distant shapes and buzzing background noise.

  Even

  the wound on his chest started to ease. Throbbing less and less, mug

  after mug.

  Tha's

  useful, no spell needed...


  A

  familiar face appeared in the sharp centre of Seventh's vision. Her

  long brown hair was cut short on both sides, leaving only a strip of

  mid-length hair in the middle. The front of the longer strip was dyed

  red, making Jenn look like a chicken in Seventh's eyes.

  He

  snort-laughed loudly and almost tipped his mug over. Annise had swept

  around his table a while ago and changed the pricey tin mugs and

  steel steins into cheap wooden cups and mugs.

  “Did

  ya lose a bet orr wha?” Seventh asked while trying to figure out

  which one of the two empty cups he was seeing was the real one.

  Jenn

  answered with an annoyed groan. “No, it’s fashion! Dyed hair is

  in right now, look it up.”

  “’nd

  the butchery o’ the har?”

  “You’re

  clearly drunk, my hair is awesome,” Jenn said with a wide smile and

  slid her hair back. As the hair slowly recovered, Jenn made a deep

  sniff towards Seventh, and her attitude shifted slightly, worry

  entering her tone. ”Actually, you’re really drunk. You... okay?”

  “Neeever

  better. Got my Soldier Class alll the way to uppidy-upp Bronze. All

  skill tapped 'n ready fo’ E-rank. Even got a fourth Classs. Oh! 'N

  Necromancy, the usual, ya know,” Seventh said with a long, droning

  voice. Clearly bereft of the joy and happiness such news usually

  brought.

  “Ooo-okay,

  maybe I take this— and put it right here,” Jenn said and deftly

  picked the mug Seventh had been nursing away from him and placed it

  outside of his reach. “And you might want to consider drinking some

  water.”

  “That

  wasn’t water?”

  She

  sniffed the mug and blerghed. “No, I think this is some kind of

  alchemical concoction made from old vomit and new regrets.”

  “Would

  explain a lot.” Seventh reached towards the bottle. Who needs cups

  and mugs anyway?

  Jenn

  snatched the bottle out of his hands before Seventh could even sniff

  it out. “Gimme that. So, where’s the troll farting? I heard you

  go to sleep early and wake up early. It’s almost midnight, not

  really your style.”

  ”Told

  ya alreedy. Got my Class up.”

  ”Yeah,”

  Jenn said and poked Seventh’s shoulder playfully. ”You’re the

  beacon of happiness and a pinnacle of adventuring success right now.”

  Seventh

  focused and laboriously met the Ranger’s eyes and kept his head

  still. “I collected . Not from the Guild.”

  Understanding

  spread on Jenn's face. “Oh. I’m... I'm sorry, Seventh.”

  “Yeah,

  yeah. I’m okay— gonna be okay? Yeah, am okay,” Seventh managed

  to mutter while looking for a not-empty bottle that Jenn wouldn't

  snatch off his hands.

  “You

  wanna talk about it?”

  Seventh’s

  hands stopped working the cork on the bottle he had found. “Nope.

  Not at all.”

  Turning

  the bottle in his hands, fingers still trying to pull out the cork,

  his movements grew slower until his hands stopped. Seventh stared at

  the label on the green bottle as he spoke.

  “It’s

  her face. Her last words, she begged.” He couldn’t read the text

  on the bottle through the haze.

  Jenn

  gently slid the bottle out of Seventh’s limp hands.

  “Tha’s

  becoming old. And rude,” he said.

  Jenn

  deftly popped the cork and poured them both a drink. “You can’t

  let the death talk get to you. It will fester— and crumble you

  inwards if you let it.”

  “You...

  have also... ?” Seventh didn't finish the question, but instead

  sipped the drink. It was probably booze, but his tongue had been shot

  for hours. He could be drinking Alchemist's Fire for all he knew.

  “Yeah.”

  Jenn looked down for a moment, diving deep into her memories. It was

  her turn to stare down at her drink. “A couple of years back, with

  another party. Some of the guys... well, they did exactly as you are

  doing right now. A month-long bender with a plethora of arrests.”

  Seventh

  tried to taste the drink again by sloshing it in his mouth. No luck,

  he swallowed. “I prolly can’t keep thi' up fo' a month. They

  still ’round?”

  “They

  quit. Crumbling, remember?”

  “Not

  you, though. Ya found a new party.” Seventh shifted awkwardly. Last night's talk with Fang is still fresh in his mind.

  Jenn

  chuckled, a smile slowly returning.

  “How have they been? I... haven’t had a chance to sit 'n chat with ya.”

  Jenn

  flicked her hand dismissively. ”Fine, I guess. They kinda disappear

  for a week or two before they're ready for the next delve. But now

  we’re talking about you. What happened?”

  Seventh

  told her the condensed version. How he had escorted Ford to the

  village, heard about the bear, and went looking for it. The fight,

  his wounds, and the new class. He even pulled out a Wizard-Killing

  Arrow from his inventory. There had been two of them in the bandit's

  quiver.

  Jenn

  listened, nodding along, twirling the arrow on her hand. At the end

  of Seventh's story, she poured a heavy drink for both of them.

  “Saint’s bones, no wonder you’re a wreck.”

  Seventh

  lifted his mug for a loud toast, “FOR BEING A FUCKEN WRECK!”

  Half

  of the bar cheered and lifted their drinks. “For being a fucking

  wreck! Sammy-boy!”

  Seventh

  blinked as he stared around. One eye at a time. ”A wha boy now?”

  “It’s

  nothing important,” Jenn said quickly and steered the conversation—

  and Seventh's focus— away from the other smiling tavern patrons.

  “What I hear, you did all correctly. You helped a village. Probably

  saved that Hunter from retribution for killing their bear.

  Beatsmasters get touchy with things like that.”

  “I

  know. 'Bout the right thing, ya know? Not about the Beastmasters. No

  clue 'bout their... animal business'ess.”

  “So

  why—”

  “”

  Seventh interrupted by slamming his wooden mug to the table, cracking

  it. “All I to do is help. Tha's all. Normal, simple,

  no-strings-attached, bloody . I try to become an

  adventurer, Interrogation. I kill rats, I become the

  Necromancer of the Sewers... ”

  “A

  what now? Interrogation?”

  Seventh

  didn't even hear Jenn's comment while continuing his rant.

  “...

  I kill veltids, te' whole damn Guild turns on me for doing the right

  thing. Can I join a party with that sorta attitude?

  And just hates us. Necromancers! I haven't even done

  anything nefarious! The Class! I try to

  kill a bear, I get shot, bleed on the ground, and then and then... and

  then... ”

  The

  barrage of words died to a loud swallow, coercing the words to come

  out. Seventh tried to clear his throat with a drink, but the cracked

  mug had emptied itself onto the table.

  “She

  me,” he finally whispered. “Not to turn her into a

  monster. Or called me a monster... Tryin’ to figure that one out

  ’ere.”

  They

  sat in silence while the tavernfolk started to sing merrily around.

  Somebody had bought a round for all, Annise skipped Seventh and

  Jenn's table.

  Jenn

  tried to meet Seventh’s wandering eyes, leaned forward, and softly

  squeezed his hand. Her fingers were calloused, warm.

  “You

  are not a monster, no matter what anybody says. Don’t let others

  define you. Especially not some bandits,” she whispered.

  “Show those fuckers what Necromancers really are. Who really

  are.”

  Seventh

  nodded slowly, avoiding eye contact. He feared that he would see

  barely hidden disgust or contempt in Jenn's eyes.

  She

  leaned further and whispered conspiratorially, “You don’t have

  them in your inventory, right? That would make this

  awkward afterwards.”

  Seventh

  tried to keep the indecent laughter in, but it burst out with an

  impressive snot-filled snort and boisterous laughter.

  He

  hoped everybody would think the tears were from laughing.

  “No.

  I have a bear, though. It ”

  After

  Seventh had calmed down— and wiped his face clean— Jenn started

  to ask about his first week of adventuring. He slowly opened up about

  the Order of Illumination interrogation, his rather odd guildmaster,

  and fighting in the sewers.

  Normal,

  boring adventuring stuff the grand sagas forget to tell you about,

  and the bards didn’t sing songs of; the blistering callouses,

  grainy ration bars, and the god-awful stench of the sewers.

  Jenn

  listened to Seventh's ramblings patiently, often chuckling and

  offering advice or telling stories from her own first month.

  It

  turned out she was born and raised in the Adamantine Bastion and had

  lived there most of her life. She had spent a couple of years in the

  eastern Skyreach Mountains doing caravan work.

  She

  had nothing else but a glowing recommendation to spend a bit of time

  just rolling around in the countryside, trying to get some low-key

  adventuring done.

  Somewhere

  in between two people just talking with each other, Seventh slowly

  started to feel like a human again, not just an adventurer climbing

  the rank-ladder.

  As

  his sense of taste slowly returned, Seventh realised Jenn had been

  pouring water for them. He smacked his lips like he was at a higher

  echelon winetasting party— the meeting kind, not a collection of

  roving murderhobos kind— and eyed suspiciously at the bottle Jenn

  had poured from.

  “You

  know,” Seventh said. ”I believe I have been tricked.”

  “Not

  my fault you tried to poison yourself with something called...

  Sarges’s Ferosious Rotgut. The label says this works as a boat

  cleaner!” Jenn retorted while pouring more water, and pointed at

  the half-full bottle sneakily pushed aside.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Seventh

  grunted and emptied his water mug. “Thanks for being here. For me.”

  “Don’t

  mention it.” Jenn leaned back with an amused look. “Wouldn’t

  expect your skinny ass to hold so much booze. Your inventory Skill

  comes with a Hollow Leg or something?”

  “Nah.

  I just... You know, focus on the task and keep it up. I think my legs

  are numb, though.” Seventh slapped his right leg hard, making some

  of the other patrons look over. “Yep, sleeping like a log.”

  Jenn

  chuckled. “Maybe it's just you country folk can hold our city folks

  weak booze.”

  “Um.

  Country folk?”

  “Your

  accent slipped when you were more drunk, fun to hear though. Where’s

  it from?”

  “I

  have an accent?” Seventh asked dumbfoundedly.

  “Not

  right now, but, yeah. From somewhere up north?”

  She

  might have been just having some innocent small talk, but Seventh

  felt his smile slip. Jenn spotted the change immediately.

  “Yeah.”

  Seventh tried to find a better sitting position with his unmoving

  legs. “Somewhere.”

  Or

  someone else's.


  An

  awkward silence fell between them for a moment before Seventh broke

  it by saying, “Ah, shit, that tingles something fierce,” and

  rubbed his ass.

  Holding

  her ribs, Jenn giggled at Seventh's excruciating fate and reddening

  face.

  “I

  was going to apologise for being late, but it looks like you’re

  having company. Hopefully I’m not interrupting?” A woman's voice

  asked behind Jenn. Seventh had seen her come in, look around, and

  promptly walk toward him and Jenn.

  The

  rooster-headed Ranger turned her head, widened her smile, and leapt

  up to hug the speaker.

  She

  was a black-haired, fair-skinned young woman in her twenties, dressed

  in a working-class dress and a loose brown vest with a wide

  green clothbelt. The belt and the long dress were both decorated with

  yellow stitching patterns running along the hem. Her hair was tied in

  a simple, messy ponytail.

  Barely

  giving Seventh a cursory glance with her brown eyes, her expression

  changed from curiosity to a mild worry and surprise in Jenn's

  bearhug.

  “Viv!

  Sorry, I didn’t see you coming in!” Jenn said while kindly

  crushing her friend.

  Red

  flushed on Viv's pale cheeks and tapped Jenn on the shoulder. “Jenn.

  Jennifer! Lungs... need... oxygen... to live... ”

  Jenn

  let Viv go and slapped her friends back apologetically. “Sorry,

  sorry. You’re real late, and I have been spending the night with

  Seventh here. Wha' too ya so long?”

  Viv

  took in a lungful of sweet air. “God’s, Jenn. We saw each other

  yesterday! Hardly enough time to give me good ol’ ribcracker!”

  Seventh

  had silently observed the unfolding scene from the sidelines. He

  hadn’t stood up in the polite way as he’d wanted, but his legs

  were still pins and needles— untrustworthy at best.

  Viv’s

  and Seventh's eyes met, and he waved an awkward hello. “Hi. I, uh,

  can’t stand right now. Pleasure to meet you... Viv?” He leaned

  forward to offer his hand for a shake.

  His

  gesture was met with a surprisingly cool and soft hand. “That’s

  right. It’s Vivienne, actually, but everybody calls me Viv.”

  She

  continued her silent appraisal of Seventh and slowly looked at the

  messy table with the bottles, mugs, and cups. She ended up his sweep

  to look at Jenn scooting over, offering Viv a seat, and squinting her

  eyes lightly. “So... what’s the occasion? I hope you haven’t

  snatched Jenn away from me for the evening.”

  Viv

  gave Seventh a final pass before sitting next to Jenn. “You’re

  not his usual type though... ”

  Seventh

  automatically looked down at himself. He was in his casual civies, a

  heavily patched and repaired grey tunic with matching trousers. Only

  his boots were good, thick-soled, quality goods on him. “What,

  she’s not into friendly neighbourhood hobos?”

  “Not

  unless they are tall, wide-chested, hairy brutes that can... ” Viv

  started, but was rudely interrupted by Jenn's expertly planted hand

  over Viv's mouth. Muffled mumbling was audible, but Seventh couldn't

  make sense of it.

  The

  description matched someone Seventh knew, and he gave Jenn a

  questioning raise of an eyebrow. A slight blush flashed on her face

  before she reigned in her emotions.

  Viv

  shrugged as she mumbled behind Jenn's hand and wiggled her eyebrows

  rhythmically at Seventh, ending her mysterious dialogue with a wink.

  Seventh

  and Jenn looked at each other, both shrugging in bafflement.

  “Yeah,

  I have no idea what she said. My knowledge of pantomime starts and

  ends in knife-charades,” Seventh said while Jenn released her grip.

  “Okay,

  I'll bite. Something you wanna share with the whole class?” Jenn

  asked.

  “Nope,”

  Viv smirked. “Just wagged my gums to make you curious and release

  me from my eternal imprisonment.”

  Jenn

  rolled her eyes and poured drinks— Seventh got water again.

  “Sneaky.”

  “That’s

  me,” Viv said and raised her glass. ”But not nearly as much as

  you two since you didn’t answer my question: what’s the

  occasion?”

  Seventh

  rolled his mug in his hands as Jenn leaned in to whisper something

  quickly in Viv's ear.

  With a curl of his finger and a short chant, Seventh sent an annoyed Whisper Wind at

  Jenn. “Hey, no whispering in a company.”

  She

  raised her hands in a defensive gesture while sticking out her tongue

  at Seventh.

  “It

  was nothing,” Viv assured Seventh. “She just asked me to play

  nice for once.”

  “Thanks,”

  Seventh flatly said to Jenn. “I am indeed a delicate flower that

  needs protection from the cruel world.”

  “Ya

  needed it about an hour ago. Two hours?” Jenn muttered into her cup

  as she peeked outside. It was dark, impossible to tell the time from

  the position of the sun.

  “Damn,

  that bad of a delve?”

  Not

  wanting to share too much, Seventh chose the golden middle ground of

  not telling too much, but enough so he could change the subject soon.

  “Something

  like that. There were... deaths, and I'm trying to find some answers

  from the bottom of these bottles.” He waved his hand across the row

  of empty bottles. “Haven't found anything else than a convoluted

  way to get legs asleep though.”

  “No

  party deaths,” Jenn clarified.

  “Ahh.”

  Viv nodded in understanding while sipping her drink. “So, a new

  adventurer then?”

  “Band

  spanking new. Somebody called me the greenest turd on the yard... or

  something like that. Greenest leaf?”

  Viv

  let out a delightfully short giggle as a laugh.

  “I

  remember that saying! It's that old guardwoman, the one with the old

  sayings singularly revolving around outhouse humor. Jenn, what was

  her name again? Basil?”

  Seventh

  snapped his fingers. “Oh, Tilly! It was her.”

  Both

  women nodded as the name awakened some old memories.

  “Oh,

  I haven't seen her in years,” Viv said as she reminiscenced ages

  past. “I haven't had the need to go to the sewers for years, so

  maybe that's why.”

  That

  perked Seventh up. “Oh? You’re an adventurer too?”

  Viv

  flashed Seventh an endearing smile. “Hardly. I work in a...

  Family-owned tavern.”

  Weird

  thing to specify, but OK.
“You adventured with Jenn back in the

  day?”

  “Yep.

  We, and a couple of other people over the years.”

  Seventh

  remembered what Jenn had told him before and just nodded. His

  slightly awkward silence and an obviously time-buying sip from his

  mug made Viv side-glare at Jenn.

  A

  cocked smile rose to Viv's lips. “I was gonna ask earlier, but

  what’s with the hair? Is that the newest fashion among the

  farmer-warriors? Of the especially... kind?”

  Jenn

  sucked in her lips and refused to answer. Seventh used the silence as

  his advantage.

  “It’s

  apparently ’fashion’,” he said while making airquotes.

  “Really?”

  Viv looked at Jenn dubiously. “And who said that? A dye merchant?”

  “That’s

  how they get you.” Seventh chuckled. “The next thing you know,

  they are selling you the stuff to get the dye off.”

  Jenn

  mock-pouted and absently stroked her leftover hair. “You’re just

  jealous, that’s all. You don’t have the guts to go for the

  highest forms of self-presentation!”

  “That’s

  where you are right.” Seventh pointed Jenn with his mug before

  taking a sip. “I'd be terrified of getting too much attention from

  a horde of chickens.”

  He

  and Viv laughed at Jenn’s dramatic intake of air with a clutching of her chest. “You dare...? But yeah, in all

  seriousness, I just wanted a change and went with it. That is ”

  Her

  deadly glare disarmed Viv's next comment, and she just smiled and

  played for a moment with Jenn’s hair, trying to make the red strand

  stand straight up. “You look good, darling. Very easy to spot on

  the streets, too. Like Nevin when he takes the coif off.”

  Seventh

  snorted. “You should see him after a bath! He’s like a walking

  forest fire.”

  “You

  know Nevin? And have been to the baths with him?” Viv made another

  appraising glance of Seventh before turning to look at her friend. “

  Is West Wind buttering up recruits or something?”

  “Nah,”

  Jenn said, squashing Seventh half a second flicker of hope. “We

  just picked Seventh up from the dungeon, and he went to the Yellow

  Springs with Nevin. He had his usual soak.”

  “Aaah.”

  Realisation lit in Viv’s eyes. ”You're the guy! Sammy-boy!”

  ”Who—?”

  Seventh's

  voice drowned under a tavern shaking, thunderous bellow of tens of

  mouths, ”SAMMY-BOY!”

  Mugs,

  cups, and steins slammed onto the tables before being loudly gulped

  devoid of beer and ale.

  The

  man in question looked around in utter confusion. “Wat?”

  “Oh,

  you know... ” Jenn started. “Adventurers like to gossip, exchange

  information, stories, and the like. Somebody like you arriving during

  odd circumstances tends to... make people talk. It's the flavour of

  the month. Before we went to the mining expedition, there was a story

  going around of a crazy party trying to get to the lower layers of

  the dungeon by monsters!”

  She

  was clearly trying to desperately change the subject, but Viv didn't

  have it. “And it doesn't hurt the rumor mill if sings,

  loudly, the Ballad of Sammy-boy in the loo. Repeatedly.”

  “There’s

  a song?!?” Seventh asked incredulously as Jenn's face flushed red.

  “Nooo-o-ooo!”

  Jenn said while quickly covering her friend's mouth again, stopping

  her from starting to sing.

  Jenn

  opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by Viv.

  “You

  know,” she said, cocking her head at Viv. “Licking my hand

  doesn't get you released faster. I'm a trained adventurer, and I

  don't fall into your tri-III-cks!”

  The

  mischievous barmaid had slid her left hand behind Jenn's back and was

  mercilessly tickling her on both sides while clearly smiling wickedly

  towards her.

  The

  shrieking laughter coming from the distressed Ranger attracted some

  attention from the other drinkers, but contrary to Seventh's

  expectation, most of them turned their heads back to their tables

  when they saw what was happening. Or who was doing what.

  Releasing

  her prisoner, Jenn retreated to the far end of the bench and rubbed

  her sides. “Meanie.”

  “Always.”

  Viv flashed a smile to Jenn before tapping her finger on her lips in

  thought. “Say, Seventh?”

  “Ergh?”

  The Necromancer had stared in fascination at the fight unfolding right

  in front of him. He had remembered to close his mouth— just so it

  didn't look like he was leering— and found it difficult to speak

  properly.

  “Another

  thing I heard from a little bird— an unflying, domesticated

  variant... ” Viv nodded towards Jenn. ”... you have an

  interesting set of Skills? At least one in particular?”

  Seventh's

  merry mood vanished in an instant. He slowly moved his gaze towards

  Jenn, who had the decency to look embarrassed. Just what had she been

  babbling about him?

  Is

  it the necromancy again?


  “You

  have to be more specific,” Seventh said through lightly gritted

  teeth. “I have multiple ones you could call interesting.”

  Viv

  lifted an inquisitive eyebrow as she said, “I'm talking about the

  one that creates something small and granular?”

  Taking

  in a slow, deep breath, Seventh closed his eyes. It was extremely

  poor manners to talk about somebody else's Skills and Class build

  unless the one who was being spoken of was a very good friend of

  both, or a known figure.

  Seventh

  folded his arms and leaned back, carefully not giving Jenn a single

  glance when he opened his eyes. “Maybe I have. Why do you care?”

  “Well,

  depending on the size and how much you can do it, I might be

  interested in making an introduction to a friend of mine.

  Interested?”

  There

  was a soft clatter of wood and a low curse coming from Jenn.

  “Why

  would I? There’s a perfectly good Enchanter’s Guild in town I can

  conduct business with.”

  Looking

  around to check they weren’t being listened to, Viv leaned in.

  “Because while reputable, Prismatic Stone isn't exactly known for

  their exemplary salaries or raw material purchase prices. What I can

  offer to you is more reasonable prices and some goodwill around the

  high people in low places, low as the grass grows.”

  “And

  this is just something you and your... friend, whatever, are ready to

  speak with a complete stranger?”

  “Nope.

  I am an excellent judge of character, and frankly, most of those who

  come into this tavern have the needed prerequisites to work for us.”

  “Easy

  to manipulate and/or plenty of blackmail material?” Seventh

  guessed.

  “No!”

  Viv let out a short laugh, ending it on a smile. “A flexible moral

  fibre and the entrepreneurial can-do-attitude!”

  Seventh

  furrowed his brow. “That's... just an adventurer, isn't it?”

  “Now

  that you mention it... Yeah, there is some overlap. Most of our

  workers have done some adventuring on the side or have done so before

  our employment. But back to you. Have I piqued your interest? Some

  stable money on the side of adventuring? Maybe a hard-to-come-by

  item or two instead of cold, hard money?”

  That's...

  an oddly good guess,
Seventh thought as he unfurrowed his face

  and finally made a cursory peek at Jenn.

  The

  Ranger had been oddly quiet and staring daggers at Viv. Jenn's

  expression gave Seventh pause. There was deep-seated anger and

  disdain well hidden, but her subtly twitching corner of the mouth and

  tension around the eyes betrayed her innermost feelings.

  “Well?”

  “I'm

  thinking.”

  There

  was indeed an item Seventh wanted to get his hands on, but hadn’t

  had much luck in acquiring it. The Book of Right Measures and

  Deviant Growths
had been high on Seventh's things-to-buy-list,

  but finding one had been... problematic.

  He

  had asked around the bookshops, parchment sellers, and ink-boilers,

  but half of the shops swiftly drove him out upon hearing the title,

  and the other half sold him a lot of ink and parchment so they

  wouldn't go and tattle to the church about a Necromancer asking

  around interesting questions. Seventh hadn’t even bothered to ask

  Father Degen about the book. A gaggle of shopkeepers was enough for

  him, and he didn't need a priest to blast him down with Smite.

  Seventh

  had started to think it was probably some kind of trap set by those

  investigators— or maybe Miller just had given him a book title that

  just happened to awaken ire and fear. Either way, it was something

  Seventh could ask for services rendered.

  “This

  person you want to introduce me to... how’s their bookshelf?”

  “Oh,

  absolutely overflowing. They have knowledge of all sorts, and if your

  tastes are more... exotic, they can ask around, try to get their

  hands on a specific book.”

  Stroking

  his beard, Seventh glanced at Jenn. She seemed more relaxed with the

  situation and was pouring herself a stiff drink of Sarges’s

  Ferosious Rotgut

  “Okay,

  but I want Jenn to come with us to this meeting,” Seventh finally

  said.

  “What

  the shit?” Jenn exclaimed while spilling her drink. Seventh could

  swear he saw a small puff of smoke rising from the wooden table where

  the liquid had touched it.

  “Mildly

  problematic, but I see what I can do,” Viv said while giving Jenn a

  side-stinkeye. ”This and that one have some personal history

  together.”

  Jenn

  chuckled nervously. “I can stay outside of all this,

  you know. No need to get little old me involved... ”

  Seventh

  gave Jenn a sickly sweet smile and tapped her hand over her mug. “But

  I would just crumble without emotional support in this new and scary

  thing! I am a delicate flower after all.”

  ”Yah,

  but... ” Jenn licked her lips nervously. Seventh could see a cold

  sweat on her forehead.

  Seventh

  almost felt bad for his little pedantic revenge for her blabbering

  about his Skills. I might have gone a little bit overboard with

  this.


  “Hey,

  it’ll be fine, Viv will keep us safe, right?” Seventh asked.

  Viv

  grimaced and waved her hand in a fifty-fifty gesture. Better odds

  than usual.

  “Besides,”

  Seventh continued. “We could tell Janiq what we're doing, so at

  least one adult knows what’s happening.”

  “Oh

  Hells no!” Jenn said as her face lost most of its color.

  “Perfect,”

  Viv said. “I'll inform them that Jenn will be joining us as an

  associate of yours. Anything else you might need for a business

  meeting?”

  “Can't

  think of anything at the moment.”

  Feeling

  he had already stolen enough of Jenn and Viv's time, Seventh finished

  his mug of water and finally got up. His legs had recovered from the

  shock of having bloodflow again, and he offered his hand to Viv.

  “It

  was a pleasure to be your acquaintance, Vivienne. You contact me?”

  “Pleasure

  was all mine.” Viv gave Seventh a warm smile as she shook his hand.

  ”Good to see Jenn’s taste in men has improved. See you around...

  Sammy-boy.”

  With

  an eye-rolling groan, Seventh left the two women and retired to his

  humble room. The rise on the rickety, narrow stairs was almost

  another adventure altogether, and upon arriving at his room, Seventh

  collapsed to his bed, not even taking his boots off.

  He

  felt the slowly healing chest wound throb through the numbness of the

  alcohol, and stacked Rejuvenate to speed up the healing. He had

  sporadically recast the spell, but the wound still a lot of healing

  to do.

  It

  was weird that his health bar was full, but he could feel his

  less-than-optimal state. A small discrepancy that he had noticed when

  checking his status after a night's rest. He'd have to check into

  that— but probably when he was sober.

  Seventh

  almost cast Numb on the wound before stopping himself. He let it

  slowly throb, getting used to the sensation.

  Smacking

  his pillow to the maximum fluffiness— not that it would be “fluffy”

  by any standards— Seventh lay his head to rest properly and let his

  mind wander around, thinking back at the day's events.

  Viv's

  smiling face was nice to think about as he slowly drifted asleep. His

  final thoughts for the day were on the wonderment of where that smile

  would lead him.

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