Jack returned to the blacksmith the next day to retrieve his blade. Holfdyr seemed pleased with the result and let him know he would be done with Erin’s armor in a few more days. The metal blade of the longsword had become a deep red with a faint black patina. When Jack lifted the sword, his panel opened, and an interesting new message appeared.

Jack’s brows went up as he noticed the special qualities.

“She’s all done, lad. Added a few bits and bobs I had layin’ ‘round, as well as that big crystal Toben dropped off. That blade’s somethin’ special. No matter how much mana and crystal ah poured into ‘er, she never got saturated,” the dwarf idly commented.
“Wait, what did you say about another crystal?” Jack stopped.
“Toben brought by a big rainbow crystal. Said he owed it to yeh,” Holfdyr replied.
“So, the sword is… good?” he stared at the panel.

The dwarf scoffed. 

“Aye, boy. It’s right rare. Usually, a steel blade like that’d barely be able ta hold the vargr crystal, much less the odds I dropped in and that big guardian crystal,” the dwarf laughed.
“But the guardian didn’t drop a crystal...” Jack trailed off.
Holgryn snorted, “Yer a bit dense, aren’t yeh lad? Toben was in the last group that slew the guardian, after he retired from the Legion. His brother died in the fight. That’s why he quit adventuring.”
“Oh. I didn’t know…” he frowned.
“Village dinnae talk about it much, outta respect for all he’s done since,” Holfdyr said quietly. “But he’s been holdin’ that crystal all this time. Prob’ly fer one of his youngins.”
“I can’t take this, Holfdyr. It’s too much,” Jack laid the blade back on the counter.

The dwarf laughed at him again.

“Nae, lad. Yeh will take it, and yer right. It is too much. Yeh still owe me twelve gold crowns,” he smiled.
“Umm… eight?” Jack replied weakly.
“Twelve,” the dwarf’s mouth set in a hard line.
“Ten?” Jack asked.
The dwarf chuckled, “Stick to lettin’ yer friend do the talkin’. Eleven, and that’s it, lad. Ah’m already givin’ ya the village hero discount.”

Jack shook his head and laid eleven gold coins on the counter and lifted his blade again. He gave it an experimental swing, marveling at the change in the blade’s heft and the swiftness of his swing. 

“Won’t the reduced weight decrease the cutting power?” he turned back to the smith.
“Nae, lad. The magic’s in the swing, nae in the weight. She’ll hit just as hard as ever,” he smiled.
“Thanks, Holfdyr. See you in a few days for Erin’s armor,” he waved as he walked out the door.
“Oy, lad. Bring me your vanguard’s old armor. Ah want a look at it,” he winked at Jack.

As he emerged from the smith’s shop, he saw the others across the market, Rory animatedly bargaining with a merchant on Layla’s behalf. He waved at a few villagers he recognized and smiled as they returned the greeting. He found it odd that no one in Mistelein questioned his appearance, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

He stood and watched as Erin fiddled with some type of kebab on a string, finally managing to wrap her mouth around some bit of it and shear off a chunk. Layla seemed disinterested in Rory’s conversation, but he watched her clutch the large oak staff close, repeatedly causing the purple crystal wrought into the tip to flare with shining mana. Rory finally concluded his negotiation and paid the merchant, who seemed surprisingly disgruntled to make the sale. 

He crossed the street and walked up to them, waving as he approached. Erin was biting at another piece of the odd stringed kebab, looking a bit like a fish nibbling at a hook.

“My food is problematic,” Erin grinned at him.
“Firefly reference, legs. Minus fifty DKP,” Layla elbowed her.
“Warcraft reference, tart,” Rory chided her.
“So, what’d you pick up?” he gestured at the staff.
“Tier two magic staff. Rory practically robbed the guy. Forty-five percent off market,” Layla grinned.
“How’d you manage that?” Jack raised an eyebrow.
“All this time in Mistelein has been very kind to my merchant class level,” he smiled. “Wanna see a neat trick?”
“Yeah,” Jack laughed.

Rory sparked with expended mana, and a complex fractal mandala appeared in front of him. He dipped his hand into the mandala, where it disappeared up to the wrist. When he pulled it out, he withdrew a handful of gold coins.

“You got… an inventory spell?” Jack gaped.
“I mean, it’s a tier two talent that grants a skill, not a spell, but it does cost mana,” he smiled. “As the associated skill levels up, the space inside gets bigger. The larger the item is, the more mana it costs to move in or out. And spending mana on the skill is how it levels up,” he explained.
“That’s… actually cooler than my thing,” Jack admitted.
“Ooo, what’d you get? You get your sword out of hock?” Layla butted in.

Jack drew the dark crimson and black blade from its sheath, enjoying the shock the sword’s new appearance elicited in the other Chosen. 

“Holy hell. What happened to that thing?” Erin goggled at the blade.
“Your sword now also has big vampire energy, Jack,” Layla cooed over the sword.
“The vargr crystal did all that?” Rory seemed skeptical.
“Apparently, the sword is special. The smith said it absorbed way more material and mana than it should’ve been able to hold. Also, Toben dropped off a crystal from the damn dungeon boss that he had been holding since the last clear,” Jack mused.
“He… wha?” Erin stopped biting at her food.
“Yeah, apparently he was in the last group to clear the Dead Strand. And given what Enora said, he’s at least level forty,” Jack scratched his short beard.

Rory whistled. 

“Our host is just full of surprises, isn’t he?” Rory looked off in the direction of Toben’s house.

-----

After Jack returned to Holgryn with the battered remains of Erin’s armor, they mostly spent the next few days relaxing, enjoying the new foods and entertainment Mistelein could offer. At least, they did until cabin fever started to set in on the third day. Unfortunately for Erin, who was by far the most stir-crazy of the four, the others wouldn’t let her go adventuring until she had a full set of armor again. She and Jack spent most of the time relieving their frustrations in the most enjoyable way they could devise.

Layla continued to carve a swathe through the town’s young men and more than a few women, but had mostly settled on a half dozen or so that tickled her fancy in one way or another. In truth, she had collected several of the strongest young adventurers in Mistelein, as they were just willful enough to put up a token resistance to her draining… affections. Which meant, she was still gaining experience for seducing the poor dears. She had yet to hear any complaints about the matter.

Rory spent the time in and around the market, making the odd trade here and there, his understanding of Mistelein’s economy steadily growing with each transaction. By the end of the third day, Rory’s inventory held nearly as much gold as any of them had seen in one place since they arrived on Ayrgard. He was beginning to understand exactly what the superior Sign he had been gifted was really good for. Not only was his mind sharper than it had ever been on Earth, but his memory was more or less perfect, and his Mind skills succeeded a positively unreasonably percentage of attempts. He could almost read the other merchants’ minds. Every nervous gesture, every facial muscle twitch, every change in inflection and tone gave him a wealth of information. He realized, if he’d had this power back home, he’d be a billionaire a hundred times over by now.

Now that he had the start-up capital, it was time to show Ayrgard some advanced economic theory.

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