I disliked Broken Tankard.
It was a loud and crowded pub, filled with people who were far too happy to start throwing punches at the slightest disagreent. Violence was sothing I hated even before people started to have superpowers, and it had beco a perfectly acceptable form of self-expression once more. Also, the drinks were overpriced and terrible, and the food was even worse.
Despite all those, it had one redeeming factor, one that made sure I had ended up visiting the place many tis. It housed the single most active job board in the whole town for the people who were not a part of the guilds. People looking for parties, specialist jobs, trainers, guides, miners…
I bypassed the crowd and walked toward the receptionist's desk. Only to be interrupted by a familiar face. "Wow, that's a sight for sore eyes, Devon. Do you need information on the dungeons again, or are you buying information on the other towns?" Rosie greeted . "We have managed to connect with another cluster, and I have so interesting stuff for you."
Rosie was an interesting woman. She was young, cheerful, personable … and absolutely deadly in combat. I didn't know what her class was, but it was clearly sothing better than a re warrior. I had seen her go through a large group of wannabe gangsters who decided that trying to force her to pay a protection fee was a smart decision.
It was not. There was a reason the pub had turned into the de facto center for the independents. She had enough strength to ensure that she could hold the paynts in escrow without being targeted by thieves — naturally, for a modest fifteen percent cut — or intervene as a third party in case of disputes.
She wasn't exactly a bank, but it was close.
She was also too important to deal with an unimportant washed-up Blacksmith who made wrong bets in this new world until he turned completely irrelevant, but I had been a custor of hers since the beginning, so we had so rapport.
I shrugged. "Unfortunately, no," I answered as I lifted my pouch, which was noticeably empty. "This ti, I'm looking for a job."
She frowned. "Follow ," she said as she gestured, and I followed her to her office. "Don't tell you're having problems with the workshop. Is it Mark?"
I wasn't surprised that Rosie knew about my new supervisor even though it had been a while since my last visit. Her business relied on information. "No, he's annoying, but not enough to kick out. I'm still the only one that can repair the sharpness-enchanted weapons."
She said nothing, and I sighed. I had already made that decision, but it didn't make sharing any easier. "I decided to take a different job. Outside," I comnted.
That earned a raised eyebrow. "That's a change of pace for you," she comnted. "What happened to Mister I'm-not-a-barbarian-thank-you-very-much."
I shrugged. "He had been screwed up badly because he had misread the situation," I said with a shrug.
"Oh, it's rare of you to admit that," she said. "What are you looking for?"
"Preferably as a part of the group that's not filled with complete idiots," I said. "Security over speed, but I need at least three gold coins as paynt, but I wouldn't say no to more," I explained the conditions.
My request was not excessive. Three gold coins were hard to earn in the town, but the sa wasn't true for expeditions outside. A good working day ant sowhat around one and a half silver for most days, and that was with working overti.
anwhile, even a diocre day outside for a hunting party brought more revenue. Anyone with revenue below five silver would be complaining about a slow day, and a good hunter easily had a revenue of twenty silvers a day. A gold coin in five days.
A lucrative business … but one with a terrible rate of mortality. The exact rate was hard to pin down with many hunters going on long expeditions, sotis choosing to just settle in another town without informing anyone.
Still, even without exact numbers, it was enough that a hefty hazard premium for the jobs outside the wall had beco commonplace, with three tis being the accepted benchmark, adjusted by the exact circumstances and need.
aning, that just by accepting to repair weapons outside, I could expect to earn at least five silvers a day rather than one and a half at a minimum. More, if it was a more dangerous job, or sothing that required my abilities.
The post-Cataclysm economy was difficult to understand, especially without a central authority to guide it.
The only thing that prevented it from completely collapsing into barter was the System. For so reason, the dungeons actually produced money. Not just tals, but actual coins, stamped by the System. It was possible to lt them, but considering they were the only currency accepted in the System Stores, no one was stupid enough to do that for material gain.
Ordinary gold and silver were far less valuable.
Of course, I still didn't understand why a hundred copper coins equaled a silver coin, and a hundred silver coins equaled one gold. It was a weird fixed exchange rate … or, perhaps, not so weird, not in a world where monsters popped from every corner and every single person had superpowers.
"Perk Reset stone?" she asked. I nodded, not surprised by her accurate guess. "You want to switch to Efficient Repair."
"Looks like the best thod," I replied. "With the repair spell getting more and more ubiquitous, it looks like the best way."
She paused, hesitant. Interesting.
Of course, I didn't believe that she was actually hesitant. Not even for a second. While I trusted myself to read people well — one benefit of working as a professor for years — Rosie wasn't as easy to read. I saw her hesitation, because she wanted to see. "Co on, let's not waste ti. Just spill it," I said.
She frowned before her expression settled to a calm smile. "Fine, ruin my fun," she said. "You want to change your skill just because you want to make money, right?" I nodded. "There's a better way for you to do so. It's still a secret, but…"
"Let guess. You're willing to introduce to them for a finder's fee," I said.
"It's good to do business with smart people," she said. "It's such a pity that you didn't get a class with Intelligence."
I didn't respond to that. Rosie was too smart not to know my frustrations about that topic, aning she was doing it intentionally to unsettle . Another trick that my old career as a professor helped to handle. Mobbing through snide comnts was hardly unfamiliar.
She seed to realize that it wasn't effective, but that didn't seem to bother her. I liked her, but she was not a particularly nice person. "A new dungeon is discovered. It's about a week's travel," she said.
"I see," I replied, tensing. "You want to join them? Why?"
"Yes, and for paynt, I just want you to write a report."
"Really?" I asked. "Even if I don't have Perception or Intelligence."
She waved her hand. "I'm not worried about it. You might not have a good class, but I'm aware of just how much you know about the dungeons," she comnted. "I just need a detailed report from you about the place, and I'll not even ask for a cut."
Coming from anyone else, that statent would have scared . Despite my best efforts, I didn't know much about the dungeons, but considering their importance, even the little knowledge I had could have turned into a target. The only reason it didn't scare was the fact that Rosie was the middleman for all those transactions, and knew exactly how much I knew. Not to ntion, my research focused more on the general details and how it affected the nearby towns rather than more militaristic details that people cared about.
While I spent a lot of money collecting data, the data I did collect was not sothing most people found useful. I wasn't trying to find the ideal skill and class combination to raid a dungeon efficiently, but to understand its impact on the communities around one.
Ironically, it made even better for her purposes. However, it was clearly not as simple.
The discovery of a new dungeon was not a simple thing. Every dungeon was essentially a pocket universe, or at least so kind of expanded space. Their geography and the hazards hidden within had little to do with the location they were in.
They were also filled with all kinds of monsters, so just enlarged beasts, so too bizarre to contemplate. Every step in a dungeon carried the risk of death. Yet, people raided them regularly. One reason was for survival. Letting a dungeon sit untouched too long was never a good idea. Its potential continued to build up … until one day, it broke, spreading those nightmares around.
Yet, that wasn't the main reason people were desperately searching for dungeons. They searched for it, because every dungeon represented a giant economic opportunity. There was no guarantee what kind of treasures it would spawn. The repair spell it had generated that ruined my inco was a good example.
"And, they need a blacksmith?" I asked. "One that can repair enchanted weapons? Why?" It was obvious with her comnt about not changing my perk.
"The dungeon doesn't have any mana," she explained.
A smile appeared on my face. That changed things. Unlike Health, which was easily replenished by food, mages relied on the mana from their surroundings to replenish it. A cheap, renewable source was why a repair spell had ruined our business. While it took half a day for to repair an enchanted weapon, they could repair dozens with ease.
A scale I could never match.
But, if the dungeon had no mana, it ant that they had to rely on mana potions and other portable sources. And, those thods were expensive, ridiculously so.
aning, I would not only get far more money than I had expected, but also I would be an important part of their logistics. The more importance I had, the safer I would be because the fighters would protect .
As far as risking my life went, it was a good deal.
"That sounds like a fascinating deal," I said. "But, I have two conditions." She nodded, gesturing for to speak. She didn't warn about not having any excessive requests, as I wasn't a moron. I might be lucky enough that my unique perspective was valuable, but it had limits.
And, it was safer to leave things on the table than to push excessively.
"One, I need a small storage room. I need a place to keep my books and other stuff," I said.
"Easy."
"And, I want you to negotiate with the expedition for . You can take a ten percent cut from my share," I added.
"Oh, interesting," she said. "Sotis, I forget how smart you are. Fifteen percent."
"Deal," I said. As much as I needed money, Rosie's involvent would help more. Not only did she know the details of the expedition better than I did and could assess the value better, but also it was a way to signal her protection.
When working with a bunch of people I wasn't acquainted with, it was better safe than sorry.
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