Frostbitten Wayfarer

Joe took Zoe through the city once more until she was standing just outside of Flit’s Cloths. He walked up to the wooden building next-door and knocked on the door.

Zoe heard some footsteps and then the door opened, revealing a large man in a deep blue tunic and gray pants. He had white hair that fell down around his ears, and pale green eyes.

[Warrior - ??]

She focused on her vampyric empathy, trying to get a read on the man. He felt nervous, afraid of something. Anxiety wracked his emotions, twisting it into a bundle of despair.

“I told ya, I’m not going out there with that vampire on the loose.” He said.

“Come on Herb, if I know the vampire’s dealt with then I know you do too.” Joe said.

Herb sighed and gestured Joe in. “Who’s the runt?” He said, pointing his thumb at Zoe.

“This is Zoe,” Joe said.

“Hello,” Zoe said sheepishly.

“Another one, Joe?” Herb asked, leading them in to his living room.

It was a nice room, Zoe thought, with a comfortable looking couch, two rocking chairs and a nice wooden table in the middle of the room. To the back was a simple fireplace, a couple pieces of split firewood crackling away, wisps of smoke and ash drifting up into the chimney.

Joe took a seat on the couch, leaning into the armrest a little. “What am I supposed to do, Herb. People keep wandering into my inn looking for help. It’s the least I can do.”

“Wait you take in people like me often?” Zoe asked.

Herb sat in his rocking chair and laughed, “I’m not sure whether he’s taken in more strays or if I’ve hunted more deer. The man’s a magnet for troubled souls.”

Joe shrugged, “Anybody’d do the same in my position.”

Zoe took a seat on the other rocking chair. It was comfortable, and the motion felt smooth as she rocked back and forth.

Herb pointed at himself, “I sure as hell wouldn’t. I’ve got enough going on in my life to add in every little shit I see. No offense, little lady.”

“I mean, a little offense taken.” Zoe did her best to scowl as she rocked on the chair.

“I just do what I can is all. Enough of that though, what’s the problem, Herb? Why aren’t you working anymore?” Joe said.

“I’m scared, Joe.” Herb said.

“Of what? The vampire? It’s gone, you know.” Joe said.

“No no, not the vampire. Well I guess the vampire’s part of it. I was the one who reported it, you know?" Herb said.

“Yeah, that’s what you said last time.”

“Right, it almost got me, Joe. Came right at me. I could smell its horrible breath, that stench of death. And then it just turned around and took off. I mean, even on the best of days I’m one wrong move away from being dinner for a pack of hungry wolves. But that was something else.

“I thought, when the vampire’s gone, I’ll get back on my feet. I’ll get out there, get to hunting again. And then I heard the vampire was dead and I couldn’t do it. What if there’s another vampire? Something had to have made that one. What if there’s something hunting the vampire, or something the vampire was running away from? I can’t get over it. That grisly face is burned in my memory, haunting me at every step.

“I’m sorry, Joe. I can’t do it anymore, you’ll have to find another supplier.” Herb said, his chair rocking back and forth.

Joe sat up straighter, “Hey I’m sorry, Herb. I didn’t know it was that bad. Don’t worry about it, I hired some odd jobbers recently and I can find somebody else long term.”

“Thanks man. I’ve been thinking about getting into painting, actually. You ever seen a high level painter’s work?" Herb asked.

“Yeah, I’ve been to Lisa’s gallery a few times, beautiful works.” Joe said.

“Lisa’s great, don’t get me wrong. But I mean high level, masters of the craft. On my travels I once saw this painting by a red artist, and it blew me away. I bet I could have walked right into it and explored the world they created. I want to make something like that.”

“No, nothing like that. Lisa’s the highest I’ve ever seen but she’s only dark red, isn’t she?” Joe asked.

“I think she might have made it to dark blue a few months ago, actually.” Herb said.

“Wow, good for her.” Joe said.

The group sat in silence for a couple minutes, Zoe looked around the room feeling a little awkward.

“Well anyway, I’ve still got to hit up Grandol before they close so we’ll get going. Best of luck with your paintings. I hope it goes well for you.” Joe said, standing up from the couch.

“Thanks man, see you around.” Herb said, waving to the two as they left his house.

“So, what did all those colours you were talking about mean?” Zoe asked as they exited.

“I figured you’d ask. It’s to do with how many classes you have. See I’m green, which means I have my third class. When I get my fourth, I’ll be dark red. You show up as orange, cause you haven’t picked your first class.” He paused for a moment.

“Well, you have your first class, but that should just be Human. Your first chosen class is your second class, but people usually refer to it as taking your first class. Anyway, you show up as orange to anybody who identifies you. After orange comes a light blue, the green that I have, dark red, dark blue and then finally, red. Each one another class that somebody has.”

“Okay, so a red artist is like, the best artist in the world then?” Zoe asked.

“Well, there’s a lot of other factors that play in. People could get good classes, or maybe most of their classes weren’t art related, or maybe they’re still a low level.” Joe shrugged.

“Wait, how would they be low level if they were red, don’t you need to be a high level to get new classes?” Zoe asked.

“How many levels it takes isn’t the same every time, though. Level eight is always when you get to pick your first class. After that, your third class could start anywhere from sixteen to twenty-four. And it just keeps getting more spread out as it goes.” He explained.

“So somebody could get screwed over and end up taking a lot longer to get to their next class?” Zoe asked.

“It depends on perspective. Some people like to try over and over for high levels to get as many levels as they can, but most just take what they get. More stats means better achievements for more powerful classes. But higher level requirements means fewer classes, so there’s pros and cons to either side.” He stopped and gestured at the store they were at.

“Anyway,” he said, “this is Grandol. I’ll be restocking my drinks here then that’s it for today.”

“Wait wait, you can keep trying again to get higher levels? Do you know what your max would be right away when you take a class?” Zoe asked.

“You can, and you don’t.” Joe answered, opening Grandol’s door.

“So you just have to level up to your max, hope it’s a good one and if isn’t restart it all over again?” She asked, stepping inside.

Zoe had never been to a brewery before, but Grandol was exactly as she would have imagined one to look. It was a dim room with no windows, and large wooden barrels lined the walls. The smell of booze and honey permeated the room and flooded her sense of smell.

“Look, Zoe, I’m not the best guy to ask about this kind of stuff. I took my classes, I’m happy with them, and when I take my next class I’m not going to worry about the level on that one either.” Joe said.

A woman was in the room inspecting the barrels. Long blonde hair flowing down her back, covering her thick dark jacket and almost reaching to her dark blue skirt that fluttered around below her knees with each step.

She turned to face Joe and Zoe as she heard their conversation. “Yo,” she said, and waved.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up an order of ale and mead I placed a little while ago.” Joe said.

“What’s your name?" She asked, summoning a clipboard to her hand.

“Joe,” he answered.

She flipped through the pages, looking for his name. “Yup, should be ready now.” She walked across the room and pointed at a few of the barrels on the wall. “These ones are yours.”

Joe walked up and touched the barrels, storing them in his storage item. He summoned a silver square and two silver circles. “Seventy silver, right?”

“Yup!” She said, holding her hand out. Joe placed the coins in her hand. “Thanks. Come back soon if you ever need to get good and drunk.”

Joe shook his head, “Sure thing, thanks.”

The woman smiled, and carried on inspecting the barrels.

“Right, well that’s all for me today so I’m headed back to the inn to make sure everything’s going well. If you’re really planning on staying out all winter you should think about some heavier clothes to keep the cold away.” Joe said, stretching again as he left the shop.

“The cold doesn’t reall-” Zoe tried saying.

“Just get some clothes, Zoe. You’re level eight, and it gets very cold.” Joe said.

“I guess I could use a jacket, maybe.” Zoe said, looking back towards Flit’s Cloths.

“Good. See you around, stay safe Zoe.” Joe said.

“You too Joe,” Zoe said, watching him walk down the street to his inn.

It was a productive day, Zoe thought. She would rather just get by on less money than have to deal with taxes. Maybe she could avoid the high pay jobs and live a frugal life. Or maybe she should just get a proper job and not have to deal with any of that.

She doubted anybody would hire some random level eight they didn’t even know though, so odd jobs would be her future for a while. If food cost her twenty copper per day which she thought she could do, that would be five days to a silver coin.

Zoe chased off down the street after Joe, “Joe! Wait up!” She called out.

Joe turned around and looked at her, with a questioning look in his eyes. “What’s up?” He asked.

“How many days are there in a year?” She asked.

Joe laughed, “Three hundred sixty five, why?"

“I was just trying to figure out my budget for the year with the whole tax thing. That’s all, carry on. Thanks!" She said and turned to walk back towards Flit’s Cloths.

She heard Joe’s quiet chuckling as she left him.

A year divided by five would be seventy-two silver spent on food every year, if she was living somewhat comfortably. That wasn’t bad, she would have just over four gold to spend on leisure before she’d end up overspending and needing to deal with taxes.

She opened the door to Flit’s Cloths and saw the same person wandering around the floor fixing up cloth that was hanging on racks, adjusting the displays to be as appealing as possible.

“Hello again,” she said to them.

“Hi, can I help you?” They asked, a smile beaming on their face.

“Yeah, I would like a winter jacket. I’m gonna be spending a lot of time outdoors this winter so I’d like to stay warm.” Zoe told them.

“Sure thing, do you have any preference for material or colours, any particular designs that you’re interested in?” They asked.

“No not really, just something to stay warm. White would be nice, I guess. But it’s not a big deal.” Zoe said.

“Wonderful, please follow me to the back and we can make something that fits you.” The man said, leading Zoe to the back room again.

Nothing had changed since Zoe was last here, and the man summoned his table and racks of fabric. His hands blurred as he reached for thick white fur looking material and whipped it around on the table.

Moments passed, and he showed the coat to Zoe. It was a thin, white fur coat with black cloth buttons along the front and would hang down almost to her knees.

He handed the fur coat to Zoe, “Here, try this on.”

Zoe took the coat and put it on. It fit her perfectly as all the clothes she got here did, comfortable and non restrictive. The coat had large pockets, which she appreciated, and it was surprising how thin the coat was. Normal fur coats bothered Zoe, the wisps of fur poking and scratching her neck. But this was thin and unintrusive. The fur it was made of was dense, and seemed to radiate an intense heat.

“Wow, that’s really hot,” she said.

“Yes, it’s made from direwolf fur which has a natural warming effect.” He said, nodding.

“I see. And how much is this going to cost?” She asked.

“One silver for the direwolf coat.” He said.

Zoe’s eyes widened in surprise. That was as much as four entire outfits. Well, one was a pair of underwear, but that was still an expensive coat.

“If the price is too much, we can try a different material. But I can assure you, nothing other than enchanted clothes will provide more protection from the harsh winters in Flester.” They said.

Zoe thought on it for a moment. Joe told her to get a nice coat, and she could afford this even if it was a bit expensive.

“That’s fine, I’ll take this one.” She grabbed a silver coin from her bag and handed it to the man.

“Thank you very much, please come back any time.” The man said, taking her silver coin and packing up his table and racks into his storage item again.

“I will, thank you.” Zoe smiled at the man and left.