“Ah, well, a gal can get her hopes up once in a while.” She winked at me and turned back toward the altar.
“I was wondering,” I said, perhaps too loudly. Some of the people in the pews looked up at me, peeved. “What would it cost to train my skills with you?”
The head priest turned back. She looked me up and down. “You may have more money than you let on. Or you may come into some one day and afford my services, who knows? I charge 200 gold per attribute point and 500 gold per skill level. I think you’ll find that fair.”
“Fair?” I asked. “How could anyone possibly afford that? How rich are people here?”
“On average, people tend not to improve their skills more than a few times in their lives due to the cost. The exception would be adventurers, who risk their lives protecting the lands from various monsters and scourges the earth bears. After all, it’s not all gods and goddesses that this world gives life to.
“The adventurers that survive bring back items of tremendous value, and they are willing to pay that cost. It brings in the funds that keep the temple running, and keeps the head priest’s workload down to a manageable level. After all, I’m in charge of training the guards that keep the city safe, an endeavor I must provide the city once each month free of charge.”
“What’s to stop someone else from training skills here in Valleyvale and charging less?” Cindra asked. “It seems to me this business is ripe for competition. There must be a lot of people willing to pay a little. In the long run, that could mean more revenue than the few people willing to pay a lot.”
“An astute observation,” the head priest said, “were it not for the law. Every city, from the smallest outpost to the Imperial City, has laws that restrict use of skillmeister abilities. The temple revenue is highly taxed, and the cities rely on their patron gods to attract and reward adventurers.”
“Adventurers who come back with treasure,” I said.
“Precisely,” the head priest said.
“And if an adventurer brought back, say, a sack of jewels. There wouldn’t be ownership papers with them, would there?” I asked.
She chuckled. “Likely not. The same as with a miner. But mined jewels tend to come through a respected distribution chain, and adventurers have quest contracts that establish their ownership over the loot they carry back.”
“Thank you,” I said. “This conversation has been educational.”
Behind the priest, a man shimmered into view. He sat cross-legged with his hands on his knees, but he floated above the altar. His skin was a slightly darker blue than the cyan light he emanated. A small pointed hat sat on his head. “Tell my niece I say hello,” he said.
“Excuse me?” I asked. I suddenly remembered my manners and knelt before him, the temple’s god.
“My name is Gowes. I am the god of wishful thinking, and Nola is my sister’s daughter. That makes her my niece. And please, stand. No head priest should kneel to a god other than one he has pledged fealty to.”
“You are a surprising one,” the head priest said. “I should have known there was more than curiosity behind your questions. My name is Eranza. I’m happy to answer any others you have.”
“I’ll be sure to deliver your message, Gowes,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “That Nola, she’ll make a great name for herself one day. I just feel it. Her city will be the brightest gem in the human lands, other than the Imperial City of course.”
“We don’t have a city,” I said.
“Neither did we,” he said. “I chose this very spot to settle down with nothing more than a hope and a smile. Where the gods live, cities rise. You’ll see.”
I nodded. “We should be on our way. Thank you both for your time.”
Cindra and I slipped out through the temple’s front doors. As we walked, a few parishioners stared at us, likely happy that we wouldn’t disrupt their prayers anymore. One stood from his pew and walked behind us. I passed him the door on our way out.
“That was encouraging,” Cindra said. “I somehow feel more optimistic leaving that temple.”
“Me too,” I said. “I wonder what we have to be optimistic about though. Maybe that’s just how everyone feels after meeting Gowes.”
Something cold and sharp pressed into my neck as something warm pushed up against my back. “Quiet now,” the man with the knife said, digging the blade in just below my chin. “We need to talk.”
+11
“About what?” I asked.
“You were asking a lot of questions in there,” he said. “Do you have stolen rocks for sale?”
“I didn’t steal anything,” I said. My fingers tightened around my spear’s handle. I wondered what it would take to thrust this guy off of me, spin around, and stab him with my polearm. There weren’t any guards around to pry him off of me, but I was worried they’d come running if a fight broke out and then they’d find me with blood on my hands.
Or dripping down my slit throat if this man was strong enough to kill me. I guessed Gowes’ wishful thinking had already worn off.
“I have a sack of stones without ownership papers. What do you want?”
The man lowered his knife. “That’s all I needed to hear. Come to the Grippersnout tonight and ask for Blade. He’ll help you offload them.” The man pulled a hood over his head and ran down a side street.
“Looks like we’ll be in town for a full day then,” Cindra said.
“No way,” I said. “I don’t want anything to do with that guy, or Blade, or whatever a Grippersnout is.”
“But this is our chance to make a sale,” Cindra said, “and use my new skills. All I need is 30 seconds across a table from Blade and we can turn those rocks into gold coins. Otherwise, what good are they?”
She had a point. “Fine,” I said. “We’ll give it a shot. But let’s make sure we know where the guards are stationed so we can get help if things go badly.”
We started walking around, taking note of where the guards were posted. They tended toward the main streets where shops and offices were. “Excuse me,” I asked one of them. “Do you know where the Grippersnout is?”
The guard grimaced. “I do.”
“Would you mind telling me?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I waited. Then I realized, he wasn’t going to direct me. We moved on.
“Maybe we should start shopping,” Cindra said, “since we’re here. Then we’ll know what we want and how much money we’ll need.”
“Great idea,” I said. I pushed open the door to a weapon shop. Swords, maces, whips, and staffs stood in racks throughout the cluttered store. The shop owner sat on a stool, chewing something and staring at us. He spit out of the side of his mouth and into a spittoon without looking away.
I pulled a spear from a stand. Its handle was metal, as was the spearhead on the end. It made my current wood-and-stone weapon look like something a caveman would use, which I supposed was fitting. I did live in a cave now, thanks to Nola.
“Adds two Strength,” the shop owner said.
I put the item down and moved on to the next one. It was heavier and the spearhead had two points to it, like an arrowhead with a central divot that split the end in two. “Adds three Strength,” the man said.
Something further inside the shop caught my eye. It was another polearm, but this one had a long, fat blade on the end. One side was serrated while the other was smooth and razor sharp. Just touching it caused the man to get off his stool and walk toward me.
“Razortooth,” he said, walking toward me. “Adventurer quality. Titan steel. Adds six Strength, two Hardiness, and one Resolve.”
“I’ll take it,” I said before I even knew what I was saying. “Hold it for me and I’ll come back in the morning when I have the funds.”