Chapter 163: Fleeced

“What’s this?” Loth asked, squatting down in front of a merchant and eyeing a shallow bowl about the size of someone’s palm.

“Fae Saucer.” The trader said. The man was covered head to toe in scars and looked like he’d been through the Abyss multiple times in order to get where he was. The oddness of having even merchants look like hardened veterans would never get old to Will.

“You fill it with something decadent, like honey, cream, sugar, whisky, brownies, whatever, and leave it exposed to the air at night. The little ones come at night and steal it. Can’t help themselves. Then they owe a Debt, so they’ll do small things like fix your boots or mend your clothes.”

“Can it be incorporated into a trap?” Loth asked.

“I mean, it basically already is a trap?” The merchant said. “I’m no expert, but If you were to add some sort of capturing mechanism, I’d expect that’d tilt the Debt out of your favor and could be dangerous for you.”

“And what’s it made of?” Loth asked, turning the dish over in her hand. It was seemingly made of rough clay. “What’s to stop me from just using my own bowls?”

“It’s a dish that belonged to a child who died of starvation. Stealing from it is bad form for the fae.”

“…How does the Floor know it belonged to a child who starved?” Loth asked the obvious question.

The merchant shrugged.

“Interesting. How much?”

“Two ten-pieces.”

“Deal. Know that I’ll be testing this immediately.” Loth said, exchanging money for her new Fae-lure. Will knew she would be using it as bait to further test the subtle effects of Debt, rather than it’s intended purpose of magically polishing shoes.

“Hey, we’re in Bakton Keep,” the man said, holding up his hand. “I wouldn’t dare try to cheat’cha.”

“Even so.” Loth said, placing the dish in a large pocket of her robe.

“What happens if you do try to commit fraud?” Will asked.

“Let’s just say, if you break the rules, you spend a lot longer in the keep than you originally intended.”

“Like prison?” Will asked.

“Community service. Sewer needs people to muck it out.”

“Slave labor?”

“Indentured servitude…that usually ends in death. So, yeah, basically.” The merchant said. “Thankfully the Floor makes it difficult to break the city’s rules unless you really try.”

Good to know.

“Two ten pieces,” Badur muttered, scribbling in his ledger. “Loth, your remaining share is-“

“Yes, I can subtract two, thank you.” Loth said.

“…Then why am I here?” Badur asked.

“I can’t keep track of everyone at once and shop,” Loth said, pointing at where Jean was inspecting a ring. Keep track for us, please.”

“Whatcha got?” Will asked, stooping down beside the Tangled.

Jean had all the memories of Brianna and none of the emotions that went with it, keeping strict control over herself by adopting a persona of threaded steel. That persona was originally grey haired, but the black had been slowly filling back in, as she seemed to be rapidly aging in reverse.

She no longer looked like a wiry grandmother, and instead appeared to be a permanently displeased matron with only a single streak of grey in her wavy black hair.

“The ring of water breathing has been useless the last couple Floors,” Jean mused, rubbing her chin. “I’m looking for a replacement.”

Jean handed the ring to Will.

Ring of the Battlefield Messenger

+5 Kinesthetics

+5 Focus

Communication from the bearer is clarified over long distances, penetrating obstruction, cutting through competing signals and preventing attenuation.

Allies and enemies of the wearer are made aware of the wearer’s affiliation.

“Hmm.” Will handed it back.

“I can communicate with copies of myself, but it’s a bit murky the further apart we are, like yelling at each other across a gradually widening river. At a certain point the message gets lost in the sound of rushing water. I’m curious to see if this ring will fix that issue until I can get a good sacrifice for Hivemind.”

“It does shore up two of your lower stats, too.” Will mused.

Jean looked up at the merchant.

“May I try this on?” Jean asked.

“As long as you don’t run off with it.” the merchant said, waving a hand.

Will couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows in surprise. Typically a street vendor didn’t allow sampling because it would be easy to just take off running, but in Bakton Keep…where would they go? The rules of the Keep made theft nearly impossible, and punishable by the Floor itself. It truly was a great place to exchange large amounts of money in rapid succession.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Probably what Bakton thought when he made the Keep here.

Jean tugged the ring of waterbreathing off and placed the Ring of the battlefield messenger on her finger. Her gaze went vacant, staring into the distance as she seemingly entered into a conversation with one of her copies.

A moment later, her gaze snapped back.

“Hmm…seems to be working. How much?”

“Five ten-pieces.”

“Do you get many people coming through who need this particular ring?” Jean asked. “Because I doubt it.”

“Maybe not, but I could sell it to a merchant going down for three, and they could sell it to someone who needs it for five ten-piece. You seem like someone who needs it.” The merchant shot back.

Jean motioned for Badur to come over, and Will could feel the Floor take notice of their haggling.

“If you’re not going down through the Eighth Floor, then certain supplies are probably more valuable to you than others. How much sugar would you say…”

Will zoned out their haggling as his thought process turned inward, scanning the display full of rings of various shapes.

He hadn’t found a good ring to replace the Ring of the Eidolon. Well, he had the yeast-master ring but he was only going to wear that when he was baking some new Kit. Not all the time.

Was it too much to hope to find another Ring of the Eidolon?

And a new glove.

The vast majority of hand slot Relics were gauntlets that required two hands. The archery wrist-guard, falconry glove and bangle of storing were the exceptions to the rule.

While he was thinking, Will was going through the rings, inspecting them one by one before returning them to their holders. It was remarkable, how much more powerful they were than the ones for sale outside the Tower.

Ring of Accuracy*

+4 Acuity

+3 Kinesthetics

4 degrees of correction

Marking: enemies struck by ranged attacks are highlighted in the wearer’s awareness until the wearer dismisses the effect.

Interesting. Mutated ring of Accuracy. No time limit, either.

“You interested in that one, lad?” The merchant asked, his forearms resting on the tops of his knees as he watched Will peruse.

“Nah, I don’t really need it,” Will said. He could hear heartbeats, after all. He wasn’t really having any problems tracking things.

“Well, that’s cuz you’re looking in the Climber rings, I got the civvie stuff over here.” The merchant said, grabbing a nearby case of rings and setting it in front of Will. “What’s your class?”

Why does everyone keep assuming I’m a civilian? Is it the lack of scars? Is Aspect’s healing going to keep me looking unblemished forever? On one hand I look great, but on the other hand, people are constantly assuming I don’t fight.