Chapter 41 - Comm Cards

Everyone was waiting outside Trustworthy Quillon’s shop when I stepped outside.

Kass rolled out his neck as I emerged. “Finally, Helmet. I thought maybe we’d have to heroically go in there and stage a rescue if you took much longer. Steve said you were probably just in the can. Perch thought maybe you found yourself a willing woman. Minara thought—”

“Don’t you dare,” she snapped. “I played no part in your childish guessing game.”
 A smile twitched at the corner of Kass’ lips. 

One of the townspeople from Riverwell moved closer to speak to me. I recognized him as the father of one of the little girls. He often led the commoner's group when they weighed in on decisions during our travel. 

“Thank you, Mr. Helmet,” he said, shaking my hand firmly. “I’m not sure we ever exchanged names. But I’m Valdas of the Tepper bloodline. On behalf of all the Teppers, I thank you. You kept us safe. You…” he leaned closer, lowering his voice as Bloody Steve was busy trying to make bets with Kass to steal his newly earned money. “You saved us from that crazy tomte. Thank you, Sir.”

“It’s just Brynn,” I said, carefully removing my hand from his. “And you’re welcome. I just did what anybody would do.”

The man shook his head at that, eyes serious. “No. No. You didn’t, and that’s why I’m thanking you.” He gave my arm a respectful pat, then gestured for the others to gather with him. They formed a somewhat unimpressive but hopeful-looking group.

“We’ve all been talking about what to do with our money,” Valdas said. “I always had aims to start my own business in Riverwell. Never quite had the coin. But I suppose that just changed, eh? We’re going to pool our money and try to start something here. And I hope I’m not assuming too much. But everyone wanted to give you these.” He handed me a small stack of wooden cards. Each was roughly the size and shape of a playing card with a circular symbol on one side with an eye and an open door on the other. Names were crudely carved into them as if the work had been done by a pocket knife. 

“Thank you?” I said, not wanting to offend him. I had no idea what these were. I almost stuffed them in one of my belt pouches but I realized there was a thick crusting of carapax slime inside my handy little pockets.

Gross.

I sent the wooden cards to my slip space instead. 

 Lyria spotted the exchange and slid over, smiling easily. “Comm cards?” she asked. “Nice. You’ll be able to keep in touch, then.”

Thanks for the save, Lyria. 

“Oh,” I said, nodding as if I’d already known this. “We’ll keep in touch,” I said.

“Good,” Valdas said. “I hope you’ll ask around about us next time you’re in Thrask. See what we’ve come up with, and swing by to say hello. We, ah, haven’t agreed on what we’ll be doing with our little shop yet, but I know you’ll get the best deals, Mr. Helmet.” He winked and walked away to hand out comm cards with the rest of our party.

Lyria leaned close, standing on her toes to whisper towards my helmet-clad ear. “Comm cards will work in your personal space. We can buy you some later. They’re cheap, but I’ll explain more when we’re alone.”

I nodded my head as the other adventurers came up to me.  It looked like trading these things was a common practice when groups finished a mission together and wanted to keep in touch. Everybody had comm cards in hand. Where the hell did everybody get these things?

Bloody Steve’s card was made of Iron. He winked as he handed it over. “It’s alright to be impressed. I get that a lot. ‘Bloody Steve! It’s so big and shiny,’ they say. ‘Bloody Steve, I’ve never seen one so beautiful,’ they say.”

“Thanks, Bloody Steve,” I said.

He looked slightly offended by my lack of awe.
 Minara, Kass, and Perch also handed me wooden cards that were slightly fancier than the ones I’d been given by the townspeople. Minara’s was the most embellished of all the wood cards—made of a polished, bleached white wood that was noticeably thicker than the others.

I lifted Minara’s card and gave it a little slap on my palm. “Nice,” I said.

She seemed embarrassed. “It’s the Radiant Order. They are very particular about appearances. I know it’s ostentatious. I apologize.”

“I like it,” I said, circling the pad of my thumb over the smooth material. The wood was carved so it looked like a drop of water landed in the center, sending out ripples. “So where is everyone going now?”

“We’re going to get drinks and food,” Valdas declared loudly. “On me! You’ve all earned it. Especially you, Mr. Helmet.”

We all traveled in a loosely formed pack in search of a tavern. I didn’t know what the others were planning after that yet, but I was curious to find out. 

Admittedly, I was itching to claim my rewards and take care of the rest of my business in Thrask, but I knew those things could technically wait. For me, forging strong bonds with potential allies wasn’t just something I wanted to do on a personal level—it made strategic sense. I wasn’t ready to trust any of these new allies as much as Lyria, but I knew them well enough to say they’d cover my ass in a fight. I also liked them and didn’t want our “goodbye” to be permanent. 

During our walk, we saw a contingent of heavily armored people marching toward a huge staircase leading from the market to the top tier, where the palace was. I itched to go up there myself to take a closer look, but I knew that would have to wait, too. 

We’d passed a few similar staircases, each flanked by flowing waters from the falls above that ran under footbridges on their way downward toward the docks below.

All the rushing water kept the air cool and damp, filling the noisy city with pleasant white noise and a fresh scent that mostly cut through the musty cave air.

Night had fallen, and I could see a smear of stars through the gaping hole in the cave ceiling far above.

I spotted a few Silvers and even a Gold heading up the stairs toward the palace with the large group. The Gold was a slim man in simple, unassuming robes. Without my helmet, I would’ve taken him for a random townsperson lingering near the group. Looking closer, I felt like I could sense an aura of violence in how he moved—like potential energy coiled up, practically humming to be released.

I stared after him, wondering at what kind of devastation someone his rank could cause. My mind returned to the torrent of power in the fight between Circa and the Forsaken. They’d both only been Silver. Could someone like this Gold have walked into those ruins and easily dispatched everything, saving every last life?

I felt a clawing need deep within myself at the idea. I wanted that kind of power. With that, I could fix things here on Eros. Even if I never made it back to godhood, I could do so much as a Silver or maybe even a Gold. 

I was still staring when I realized I’d nearly lost track of the group. I jogged to catch up with them.

I caught bits and pieces of conversation as we walked. There were several mentions of Forsaken, probably connected to what the guard woman had said on our way in. I also heard mutterings of a dungeon but never caught enough to say much more than there was some kind of dungeon… somewhere. How enlightening. 

But even the hint of information had me curious. I still needed a way to finish off my journey to level 50 and then find a way to ascend to Iron. Maybe a dungeon could be the answer? I’d need to ask around and learn more before I got too excited, though. 

As we walked, I thought about claiming my furniture tokens, mostly wondering if I was still dead set on pushing my luck for the cursed bed. I seriously doubted I could stop myself from taking that final step and cursing the bed, but I at least had to vow to consider the stats of the legendary bed before making my final decision. 

After all, I could always wait until I’d squeezed as much benefit as possible from an exceptionally strong legendary bed, then risk cursing it when I needed another edge. But if the legendary bed’s benefits didn’t feel like they would make me an unstoppable leveling machine right away, I thought the riskier path of cursing the bed might be in my best interests. Or maybe I was trying to use shaky logic to explain how badly I wanted to trust my gut and use the cursed coin. 

I was also hoping there was something I didn’t understand about my divine ability. If I could use my corestone abilities in ways that weren’t exactly stated in the description, could I do the same with my divine ability?

The question had secretly been burning away in my mind for some time now. What if I could find a way to delete just one aspect of an item rather than the whole item? 

It was a nice thought, but I honestly doubted it, and I knew I shouldn’t let the idea influence my decision. I needed to assume I could only delete the entire item until proven otherwise. If I discovered I could divinely smite the curse right off an item and keep the good parts at some point, all the better. 

I shifted my thoughts to the idea of fresh food and drink. After our trip through the Black Wood, I felt battered, bruised, and exhausted. I also stank. We had all tried to wash off in the river before we found the road to Thrask, but water could only do so much for the kind of terror my clothing and body had been through. I needed soap and new clothes.

Thankfully, about one out of every twenty people we passed looked just as filthy and battle-worn as we did, so our stench and torn clothing didn’t even draw attention here. My helmet was another story.

We pushed our way through the colorful tents, dodging hawkers, circling wide around a street fight spilling out from an alleyway, and avoided a few stern-eyed kiergards. I stared at everything like a tourist, wishing I had a camera from Earth to snap pictures of several things I saw.

The water cascading down, bathed in white light from the moonless, starry sky above.

A woman with striking blue eyes, head wrapped in colorful scarves as she smiled, showing deep lines in her face. She held her two little girls to her side as a merchant demonstrated some sort of magically regenerating candy. He kept taking bites and the chocolate ball kept regrowing.

The stern face of a kiergard, imposing and terrifying but still striking.

The deep blue waters below tinged with greenish blue. White, frothy wakes formed curving patterns as dozens of ships drifted into the busy docks or sailed off, riding the current to curve around the cave wall in the distance.

I smiled to myself. I was only scratching the surface, still. The surface of my class and abilities, this world, and even the people I was beginning to call friends. It was a good feeling, and I took a moment to soak it in.

We had been walking for minutes already, but the market of Thrask seemed like it might have no end. The whole city was built on curved platforms wrapped around a massive protrusion in the cave. It meant I could never see too far ahead, but I was beginning to feel like we might circle back to the beginning soon, even though I knew that shouldn’t be possible after viewing it all from above. The city was a multi-tiered semi-circle, so we would eventually run out of room to walk if we went too far, reaching only a dead-end of the rocky cave wall. 

Not that I particularly minded the walk. There was too much to see to be bored, and I was busy making a mental map of places I wanted to come back and check out when we were done at the tavern. 

I saw full sets of armor I couldn’t identify with my helmet, weapons, some kind of cafe full of young people playing Vice, a shop full of strange little animals in cages, countless restaurants, and several bookstores. We passed more strange races of people, most vaguely humanoid. I saw quite a few Iron adventurers in gear of varying quality. I was beginning to piece together a rough feel for the relative rarity of each rank as I inspected everyone we passed.

So far, Silvers seemed very rare, even in a large city like Thrask. Kiergards made up the majority of Silvers I saw, and the slim man was the only Gold I had spotted. 

From what I had seen, I guessed Woods probably made up ninety percent of the population in Thrask. Maybe nine percent were Iron, and one percent or less were Silver. Seeing only one Gold didn’t tell me much, except they were probably exceptionally rare.

I saw some glimpses of equipment that looked powerful—maybe earned from accomplishments or crafted by other adventurers. But nothing I saw looked as obviously powerful as Voidgaze. Everywhere we went, I gathered looks.

The attention was worrying me.

In Riverwell, the helmet earned similar reactions. But the sheer number of people here was different. Out of so many, was it possible that none of them would recognize Voidgaze? Maybe the fact that it had been Seraphel’s back when he was a Gold would protect me. For all I knew, his journey from Gold to godhood had taken thousands of years, and depictions of him with this helmet could be so ancient that only a handful on the planet would recognize it.

I hoped so, at least. But I could always refuse to remove my helmet and deny someone’s accusation that I was Seraphel if it came. Wasn’t the possibility of being a person who found the old, discarded helmet of a god more likely than running into the god himself, after all? The argument kept me from tearing the helmet off and stashing it because there would be no explanation for having a god’s face if I was recognized. 

It was another reminder to find a damn illusionist as soon as possible. 

It also made me wonder how long some of these people had been around. Bits and pieces of things I had heard made it seem like the lifespan here on Eros was nothing like what I was used to on Earth. Or was that only true for people who advanced high enough in rank? 

My thoughts were interrupted when we finally left the stores selling items and reached a section of restaurants and taverns.

Bloody Steve veered toward the first tavern we passed, kicking the doors open like the bad guy in an old Wild West movie, hands on his wide hips as he looked around. “This’ll do,” he said.

The man behind the counter threw his hand up as if annoyed but unsurprised to see his building being abused. He eyed us and then went back to cleaning up something that had been spilled on the bar. 

I supposed it was time to figure out which parts of the group would be sticking together and which parts were about to split off for the time being. But first, I wanted a bath. I desperately hoped this place had one of those washrooms. I’d even kill for a turn with a communal toothbrush again. After that, I could worry about eating and drinking.

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