“Back to our conversation from last night,” Reina said, clearing her throat. “Angus and I worked at the Society together for a while. Eventually he asked me on a date, and we did for a while until he got weird. It made the work area toxic and I left.”

  “Makes sense, you never shit where you eat,” Rook said, remembering his days as a young private fucking around in the barracks.

  Reina shook her head. “Do you have to say things like that?”

  Rook laughed, his humor long since broken. “So where’s this vendor at?” Rook was staring into a shop that was selling cooking ware for adventurers. Pots and pans hung from nails pounded into the walls.

  Reina sighed, rolling her eyes. “He should just be down the path a bit further,” she replied, pointing to a shop that was shaped like a mimic version of a treasure chest. She stopped rooting around in her travel pack, producing a burlap sack moments later. “Put everything in this. Better not to show any more signs you’re a conjured. The tattoos already make you look like a crook or some sorcerer’s guilder.”

  “That reminds me.” Rook grabbed the makeup and placed a smear over the triangles. “Instead of super out of place, now I just feel normal out of place.”

  They walked into a side alley, like some sort of fantasy drug deal. He placed all his gear minus the potions in the sack, which quickly became heavy. They stood in front of it. Yup this is insane. There’s no way builders spent time making this place. Rook stared mouth agape at the sheer structural integrity of the chest. It looked like any treasure chest you might find in a generic dungeon, but there were sharpened teeth lining the brim.

  They walked into the store, inside was filled to the brim with random shit. He had been in houses like this before for welfare checks. Most of the time it was a sad person with everything they collected underneath the sun. On the floor were barrels of discount weapons, mannequins with dirty scarred armor. In the middle of the room there was a four sided wooden island with a skinny crooked old man with a large beak nose. Am I going to find anything here? Rook wasn’t totally convinced that the man wouldn’t tell him about the three ghosts that visited him in his sleep.

  “Welcome to Mimics. Are you here for the quest?” The old man asked with a smile. “Oh, Reina!” He exclaimed. “And I see you brought a friend.”

  He opened a door on the island and stepped from behind it. In an instant the old crooked man transformed into a gnome, no bigger than a small child.

  “Mimics. I get it now.” Rook chuckled watching the old gnome.

  Reina’s mouth dropped. “Don’t offend him, he’s very sensitive about his height.”

  The gnome ambled towards them, hobbling on a walking stick that was the size of his forearm. Rook was half tempted to lift the gnome up and throw him in the air, or to punt him. Those were sick intrusive thoughts that he had to shove deep down. It was like when there is a puppy and the cute aggression tells you to throw it. Hell the gnome would probably cast a fireball on me if I picked him up or turn into some kind of monster.

  “Yes I did, this is Rook.” She clapped Rook on the back.

  He looked at Rook, sizing him up. “What brings you to Mimics?”

  “We are here for the quest and to sell some gear before heading to the historical society, we need to see the historian.” Reina answered.

  “Gear I can help you with, however young Angus isn’t due back to Ollar until next week.” The shopkeeper nodded slowly.

  “That’s unfortunate,” Rook said.

  “The shopkeeper Jinxor here is a powerful mage, from the circuits,” Reina said, nudging him with an elbow.

  “I did okay,” Jinxor said, sizing Rook up

  Rook discovered long ago that whenever someone says they did okay, it usually meant they were a force of nature. His old Platoon Sergeant told him once that he was an ok shot with his pistol. However, the man was a competition shooter who had eight confirmed kills with his M9.

  “I took my winnings and started up mimics, based on an adventure I had oh…” Jinxor rubbed at his chin. “50 years ago. About you human, I feel magic on you, what is your class?”

  “I am a battlemage with Attramancy.”

  The gnome laughed at him, a high pitched fit of shrill laughter. Wonderful, Samuel Rook Merrell, butt of all the jokes. I wonder if he wouldn’t mind kicking me in the shin while he’s at it.

  “I don’t mean to laugh,” Jinxor said, rubbing away a tear. “Battlemages only get powerful when they choose a core element like Pyro or Cryomancy. Even Psyomancy would be good in certain situations. Attramancy is only good for building towns.”

  Rook sighed. “What’s your speciality other than being two feet tall?”

  Command Presence- Silver Tongued Bastard Activated

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  The smile disappeared from Jinxor’s face and an audible gasp escaped Reina’s lips.

  “What did you say?” Jinxor took a hobbling step towards Rook. “I froze the last man who made a disparaging remark about my height.”

  Well this is where I die. Not from on deployment from a bullet or IED, not from a giant crab in the forest, here in a shop from a crippled gnome.

  “How long did it take you with those little hands?” Rook asked, his voice sounding far away.

  Breath began hissing out of Jinxor’s nostrils, and veins bulged from the temples on his bald head. Well, I can’t help it. I’m a sucker for a good comeback. Then the gnome sniffed, his eyes turned from blood shot to blank and his lips began to sputter a giggle. The giggle turned into a fit of shrill laughter once again.

  “I like this tall human.” He gave a gentle whack to Rook’s shin. “You get the friends and family discount. It’s been a while since someone has given me the what for. Most folk around here are too afraid of Jinxor the bloody blizzard, to remember that I am also Jinxor, lover of a bloody good joke.” The gnome began hobbling back to his station.

  Rook joined in awkward laughter. He glanced nervously at Reina who just exhaled slowly. She isn’t going to say anything, but I probably almost died. He leaned on the wooden island, glancing around Mimics. Now that he was in the middle, it seemed to have a strange sense of organization. One side of the shop had a range that had a straw dummy standing about twenty five meters down each of the two lanes. The southern end had trinkets, the western had potions and herbs it looked like and where they stood had the barrels of weapons and armor.

  “I have a few things I would like to sell.” Rook said, hitching the sack higher on his shoulder.

  It always drove him crazy, disorganization. Which is unfortunately why his platoon always left him in charge of laying out gear. Gear mixed with mushrooms and random healing draughts.

  “Sure, let’s take a look, just place whatever you don’t want on the countertop.” the gnome said. “I’m going to get a small scale.” He fished around behind the counter. “Where is it damn it all?”

  Rook glanced at a set of brown armor on a mannequin, beside a nearby shelf, then his own red beginner gear. I need some better stuff.

  He placed the sack of unwanted inventory on the counter. Skinning knife, cudgel, and the goblin items.

  Rook pointed at the mannequin. “How much?”

  “Ah the basic leathers are ten silver,” Karthazz said. “I’ll inventory your gear and then you subtract it from the total sale price.”

  Goblin bandit journal

  1 Black Dagger necklace (Copper)

  Great axe (Copper) (Broken)

  Goblin Vest (Bronze)

  “Ah, a broken goblin great axe, I can always fix this.” The gnome dragged the axe behind the counter and threw it down a trap door. “Black dagger necklace.” He squinted at Rook. “Where did you get this?”

  “A group of them attacked Roran and kidnapped Reina. I took it off one of the corpses,” Rook said. He wasn’t about to apologize for hurting a cannibal goblin.

  “Very good then. Goblins are a blight.” He placed the dagger necklace in a small chest on top of the counter. “There’s always a collector for the Black Dagger group. Nasty buggers, surprised you took them out.” He grabbed the journal. “Lastly, a goblin bandit journal, signed by Black Dagger Sergeant-Rix. You killed a Black Dagger Sergeant. I have a feeling that you will not be seeing the last of them. For the God Maker’s sake, you have a goblin vest.” Jinxor pinched the bridge of his nose. “They may be hunting you now, just waiting for the right moment.”

  “That’s right, the other goblin did call him Rix.”

  “Did you even look inside?” the shopkeeper asked.

  “Yes. Well, no, sorry. I usually read the back cover before buying a book,” Rook replied.

  Jinxor flipped the journal over to the back, which was not only blank but also horribly scarred and caked with grime. Rook smiled; he had an aversion to reading anything that couldn’t be scrolled with his finger. The shopkeeper gave the book back to Rook, and he placed it into his sack.

  “Keep this journal. Feel free to remove the leathers, and then when you’re ready, head down to the cellar.” Jinxor pointed to the corner wall, where a doorframe was blocked by two crates. “And take some of these as well.” Jinxor handed Rook two glass bottles, filled with green liquid.

  You have obtained Potions of Antivenom x2

  Rook inspected the leather. They were made from animal hides and stitched together with thick thread. He ran his fingers across a simple design of two black swords embossed on the chest. This will do just nicely.

  “You can go in there and equip them,” Reina said, nodding at a small room off to the side.

  Inside the room, there was a bench and a hook for gear.

  Would you like to equip Simple Leather armor?

  Y/N

  Yes. He equipped the new armor, and it formed to his body. He squatted and rotated his arms, testing out the mobility. He checked his appearance out in the small mirror. Yeah this will do.

  He walked back out into the shop and Reina gave him a once over.

  “Fitting,” she said, giving him a nod of approval.

  Jinxor cleared his throat. “Bring back it’s eyes. I need them for my apothecary,” Jinxor said.

  Turning their attention towards the apothecary table, Rook sighed inwardly. What is she going to do? The apothecary table was being used by a squirrelly-looking woman in a tunic with a floral design. Her hands moved furiously as she ground down ingredients in a mortar and pestle.

  Rook thought about the potions. Hognose beasts are Poison boars? Rook was confused about the antivenom potions, but with how this world was, he figured he would need them sooner or later.

  “If you return, I’ll show you a few techniques to get stronger as a bonus to the quest.”

  Sounds good to me.

  How high is your Attramancy?” Jinxor asked.

  “It’s twenty,” Rook said with a lopsided grin.

  “Very funny, too tall.” He became serious. “Then if you can’t fight your way through.” He rubbed at his bald head. “Then your stealth?”

  “It’s eight.”

  Jinxor frowned at Rook. “I’m not sure you’re strong enough to finish this quest. Plain and simple,” Jinxor said, catching Rook by surprise. “What I’m doing by allowing you to venture down is sending you to your deaths.” His frown deepened. “Are you two in a party?”

  “Yes, Jinxor. Don’t worry so much.” Reina said.

  “Alright, go down and be careful.” Jinxor sighed, walking back to his island. “Gold ranked tip, Hognoses can be killed by a strong impact to the back of their head. Even though there’s one, they can be dangerous.”

  Dodging the many items in the narrow walkways, Rook stepped over a lance that was balanced on two stacks of books. Until he stood in front of the crates, placing two hands on the corner, he pulled.

  “Oh, sorry about that. Mary, can you get that?” Jinxor called to the alchemist station.

  “Sure.” She faced the crates, pushing her hands up and sweating.

  Her forehead filled with thick beads of sweat, and moments later, the crates slid to the side, grinding against the wooden planks.

  She’s an mage? “You’re an Atramancer?” Rook asked excitedly.

  “Not anymore, just an initiate alchemist. The builder’s guild is very selective about whom they allow to stay.”

  He frowned, not wanting to press the subject further. Rook pulled the heavy wood free of the latch, unbarring the door.

  With a strained grunt, he and Reina pulled the door open. It creaked open at a glacial pace, filling the space with a loud whine. I’m guessing the gnome had this closed a lot longer than he let on. They were assaulted by a cloud of dust. The air became rich with the damp and musty scent of a cave, mixed with the smell of rotting fruit. Just what the hell is he storing down here?

  Taking one more look at the set of stone stairs leading into the darkness of the dingy cellar. He smiled at Reina.

  “Ladies first?” Rook asked, with a surprisingly shaky voice.