Soladin’s reminder drove the situation home, and the three hurried off to purchase adventuring supplies.

Whether because Soladin’s shout had worked or Anser’s Charisma was high enough, even shops claiming to be out of stock sold them a few items from their reserves at a modest premium.

Waterproof backpacks, tents, blankets, raincoats, lanterns, matches, healer’s kits, grappling hooks, emergency rations, seasonings, a compass... They bought a great assortment of things.

Anser purchased three ordinary Potions of Healing from an alchemist’s shop for three hundred and ninety gold pieces—nearly three times the lowest normal price. It was outrageous, but they had no choice.

As for Potions of Hill Giant Strength, none were available. They simply could not be bought.

Most alchemists were wizards. Without them, the markets for potions, scrolls, and magic items were all on the verge of collapse.

They were already lucky to find anything. Many adventurers were simply turned away.

The open-air market might have been cheaper, but searching it would take too much time and make them easy targets for fraud.

“Backpacks, two gold pieces. Blankets, six silver. Lanterns, eight silver. Healer’s kits, five gold...” Bratt checked the supplies against their list and discovered that the thirty or forty gold pieces in the party fund were not enough.

“Everything is rising in price. Food costs several times what it used to, and once the potions are included, the party owes you several hundred gold pieces.” He smiled helplessly.

Anser patted him on the shoulder and teased, “Then you’d better work hard.”

As far as Anser was concerned, these were all essential supplies they would eventually need on the road. Once packed, they filled three backpacks exactly. All three were classed individuals, so the burden was manageable.

Anser still had more than a thousand gold pieces. As he hefted the heavy coin pouch, spending the money to increase his strength seemed far wiser than hoarding it.

“Come on. This way.”

He entered a magic-curio shop beside the alchemist. The store was large and must once have been quite prosperous, though it was deserted now.

Its owner was an elderly female wizard in a pointed witch’s hat. Her deeply wrinkled face was unsettling enough to remind Anser of an old witch from a fairy tale.

He focused on the old wizard. The die spun for a moment but detected no information at all.

Anser found that strange, though his expression did not change.

“What would you like, charming little fellow?” The old wizard tipped up the brim of her hat with her wand, revealing a pair of obsidian-black eyes. Her voice was as soft as a cat’s, without the slightest trace of age.

“Uh, I haven’t decided. Do you have anything I can use?” Anser answered honestly. Aside from a staff, he lacked practically everything.

The old wizard leaned against the counter with one elbow propped up, twirling a delicate wand elegantly between her fingers. Her poise made it easy to overlook her face.

“The Weave has changed. Certain magic items are losing their magical properties, especially those with spell effects. Do you... understand?”

“I do.” Anser raised his staff slightly.

The old wizard looked him up and down, then waved a hand. Several items appeared on the counter in succession: cloaks, slippers, rings, and amulets.

“A Cloak of Protection, Cloak of the Manta Ray, Slippers of Spider Climbing, Ring of Spell Storing, Amulet of Health... You don’t even have a decent robe. I suggest prioritizing survival.”

She briefly explained each item’s abilities, then sat down again and watched Anser with interest.

“How much is the Ring of Spell Storing?” Anser focused on the ring. It was the only Rare magic item among them.

The ring could store multiple spells totaling five spell levels. In other words, it could hold five 1st-level spells or one 5th-level spell.

With the Weave in turmoil, stored spells had an even higher chance of failing than ordinary spellcasting. But Anser used mana casting, so that problem did not exist for him.

The ring had lost much of its value to everyone else, which was probably why the old wizard had brought it out.

“Someone once offered me eight thousand gold pieces, and I refused.” The old wizard lifted the ring between withered fingers, her expression distant. “Now... I’ll let you have it for two thousand.”

Anser’s expression stiffened. He had only about twelve hundred gold pieces left—nowhere near enough. He looked at Bratt and Finn, but both shook their heads.

So they were all paupers. Anser felt helpless.

“Not enough money?” The old wizard had expected as much. She had been observing him for quite a while. “Do me a favor, and I’ll give it to you for free.”

Anser immediately shook his head. “I’m only a novice classed individual with limited abilities. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“Caution is an essential virtue for a spellcaster.” The old wizard nodded approvingly, then pushed both the Cloak of Protection and the Ring of Spell Storing toward him. “These items plus one thousand gold pieces. Go to Seatower and bring someone out for me.”

“Me?!” Anser pointed at his own nose in astonishment.

“Yes.” The old wizard nodded as though it were perfectly natural.

“Don’t you know the city is full of underground creatures? Even the Upper City has fallen. Going inside would be suicide!” Anser stared at her as if he had heard a joke from the Hells.

“Relax.” The old wizard gently swayed her wand. “Citadel Streets, Manorborn, Bloomridge, Seatower, and part of Temples remain in the Watch’s hands. They won’t fall anytime soon.

“Take a boat from Rivington’s docks. The danger is not particularly high.”

“Uh, you’ve certainly thought everything through, but my abilities are limited. Please find someone else.” Anser refused decisively. He had no desire to risk his life.

A boat from Rivington could indeed follow the current directly to Seatower west of Gray Harbor. But what if the duergar were guarding the waterway? What if he was surrounded the moment he landed? What if the boat lost control and plunged into the giant pit?

“That’s all right.” The old wizard smiled without pressing him. She raised a hand and placed a sheet of parchment atop the cloak. “You can have the items anyway. They’re worthless in my hands.

“Come find me whenever you save enough money or change your mind.”

Anser froze. He had not expected such good fortune.

He picked up the parchment and unfolded it. It was an unsigned magical contract stating the commission’s terms. The client field bore the elegantly written name Dorothea Zetkin.

After hesitating for a moment, he transferred one hundred platinum pieces into an empty pouch and placed it on the counter. “This is all I have for now. Thank you for your generosity and trust. I’ll gladly accept.”

“Good luck.” The old wizard used her wand to brush the white hair from her forehead. She kept her eyes on Anser’s face without so much as glancing at the pouch of platinum.

Anser gathered the items, inclined his head, and turned to leave.

Bratt quickly caught up and whispered, “Could there be something wrong with those items?”

“Back to the inn.” Anser did not know Identify, but he possessed a more precise means of appraisal.

The three returned to their room laden with bags. After piling everything on the floor, they crowded around Anser.

“Those two magic items must be worth at least three thousand gold pieces. She wasn’t even worried we’d run away. That’s strange.” Bratt remained uneasy.

“Mm.” Finn agreed.

Anser narrowed his eyes and brought up his character sheet to inspect the two magic items. There were no curses or magical marks. Everything was normal.

“It probably isn’t that complicated.” He opened his eyes and picked up the parchment. “Maybe she’s simply buying goodwill.”

“What good will that do? We’re leaving.” Bratt waved dismissively, sat on the floor, and began organizing the supplies and backpacks.

Finn went over to help him.

“True.” Anser stopped thinking about it and turned his attention to the two magic items.

The Ring of Spell Storing was a dark-gold band nearly half an inch wide, covered in rings of blue magical patterns. One glance was enough to tell that it was extraordinary.

He slid it onto the index finger of his left hand. It was slightly too large but would not fall off.

The Cloak of Protection looked unremarkable from a distance. Only when he picked it up did he discover that it was not pure black, but raven-black, with a purple-blue metallic sheen beneath the light.

The cloak was an Uncommon magic item. Wearing it granted +1 Armor Class and +1 to saving throws—a modest increase to both defense and resistance. Simple and practical.

The saving-throw bonus in particular applied against most hostile effects and was especially useful against enchantment effects and psionics.

Anser put on the cloak and raised its hood. Outsiders could no longer make out his face, adding an air of mystery and making him feel somewhat more secure.

Notes:

1. Staff: Generally quite long. Some are smooth and almost uniform in diameter, while others are gnarled and twisted. Some are made of wood, others of polished metal or crystal. A staff weighs between two and seven pounds and also serves well as a walking stick or cane.

2. Wand: Think of the wands from Harry Potter. They are generally twelve to fifteen inches (thirty to thirty-eight centimeters) long and commonly made from metal, wood, or bone.

3. Rod: Items in the rod category are usually made from metal, wood, or bone and generally weigh between two and five pounds.

4. District names can vary between Chinese editions. Manorborn and Bloomridge both have alternate localized names; this translation uses the official English names.

(End of Chapter)