Book 2: Chapter 51: Atticus's Arsenal

Book 2: Chapter 51: Atticus's Arsenal

“What are you doing out so late?!” the grizzled guard barked. He had an olive complexion and a great, bushy, and black beard. It was almost as if he’d grown such magnificent facial hair in order to make up for the lack of hair on his head. Otherwise, he was short and stocky, wearing a leather breastplate and carrying a shield and spear. “Do you have a death wish, boy? At your level, you’re lucky you didn’t meet the beast!”

“The beast?” Elijah asked, adjusting the giant ogre staff he had propped over one shoulder. His other staff, he used as a walking stick. “What kind of beast?”

Indeed, he hadn’t sensed any other creatures in the area, so the notion that there was some sort of beast around was something of a surprise. However, on second thought, it was entirely possible that some great predator had killed or scared off any other animals.

“The maneater,” the other guard said in a quiet voice. She was taller than her partner, with similarly dark hair and a nearly identical complexion. However, she was wearing a helmet, so Elijah couldn’t get a good look at her face. “Now, in with you. You don’t want to be out after dark. That’s when it’s most active.”

Elijah asked, “Do I need to pay or...”

“What? No. Of course not,” said the bearded guard. “In with you, now. We’re about to lock up.”

Elijah knew better than to argue, so he thanked the pair, then stepped through the gate. As soon as he did, a horn sounded, loud enough to echo for miles, and behind him, the gate creaked closed. He did notice that there was a smaller door set into the gate, but it was barred shut as well. Soon, the entire city would be locked down, likely as a defense against the maneater the guards had mentioned.

Pushing those thoughts to their own facet of his mind, Elijah looked around as he strode into Argos. The architecture was what he would have expected from a Mediterranean city, with red tiled roofs and stucco walls. Yet, there were only a few remaining bits of evidence that it had once been a modern town. The streets were populated by pedestrians and hand carts, without a car in sight. However, there were still electrical lights, and Elijah even heard a few stereos playing music.

The people themselves wore an odd collection of old and new. There were plenty of old sports jerseys, blue jeans, and tee-shirts, but there were also oddly cut trousers, shirts, skirts, and dresses as well. Elijah even saw a few robes that looked like they would’ve been at home in a movie about fantastical wizards. Fortunately, he wasn’t the only one carrying a staff. In fact, the vast majority of the pedestrians were armed with at least a dagger. Quite a few had swords, axes, and spears.

There were also plenty of guards present, and though they eyed everyone with stoic purpose, Elijah saw no evidence of overt corruption. It was a nice reminder that, sometimes, people could be good and effective at keeping order. He hoped that would turn out to be the rule, rather than the exception he’d seen in Norcastle. Yet, for all that, Elijah saw anxiety etched on every face. Every furtive glance told him that the population was uneasy.

Elijah strolled through the city, the butt of his Staff of Natural Harmony thudding against the flagged streets along the way. The architecture of the city was impressive in its diversity. From what he had seen from afar, he had expected a picturesque Mediterranean town, and there was certainly some of that present. However, there were plenty of modern, soulless buildings that would have been at home in any midwestern strip mall as well.

The curse of modernity, he reasoned.

In any case, Elijah spent the next few hours just wandering around. It was nice, just being around people for once. He’d gotten a taste of it back in Norcastle, but he’d jumped from one crisis to another without stepping back and letting himself enjoy the benefits of civilization. There was just something comforting about being surrounded by other human beings. Most people took that for granted. Even those who preferred to stay away from crowds took solace in the knowledge that they weren’t really alone. As isolated as they were, they knew that, if they so chose, they could have a conversation with their neighbors. They could meet up with friends. They could go see family. Many chose to eschew those benefits of living in a connected society, but the fact that the option was there was more important than exercising it.

The highlight was a large statue that, according to an engraving on the plinth, was meant to depict Heracles. Further, it was supposed to be an exact copy of the famous Farnese Heracles statue. That it had survived the transformation of the world filled Elijah with a sense of gratitude. Even though it was a copy, its endurance felt like an assurance that Earth’s culture and mythology wouldn’t be completely lost.

Of course, billions of people had likely perished in the transition – and thousands more probably died each day – so there would be an undeniable effect going forward. Hopefully, humans would maintain some connection with the world they’d lost.

Eventually, Elijah’s wandering took him to what looked like an armory. The sign out front declared it to be Atticus’ Arsenal, which was perfect for ticking off one item on his to-do list. He still needed help identifying the items he’d looted, and he expected that a weapons shop would be perfectly suited to such an endeavor. So, it was with some anticipation that he stepped through the front door of the shop.

Inside, he found a dozen racks filled with weapons of every sort. Some were clearly low-quality, which meant that they were bad examples of even unranked items, but others were just as obviously higher grade. And there was one sword on display that drew Elijah’s eye like no other. It was situated in a glass cabinet, but even with that barrier blocking his senses, Elijah could feel the Ethera dancing around it.

“You’ve got a good eye, friend,” came a male voice. Elijah glanced over to see a man leaning against a doorframe. He was tall and well-muscled, with the build of an athlete. On his head was a mop of curly, black hair, and he had the same olive complexion that seemed so common amongst the town’s residents. One thing that set him apart was a large, hawkish nose that gave his face an aggressive cast that it would’ve otherwise lacked. Other than that, Elijah noted that he was clean-shaven, with a strong jaw, and a slightly pointed chin. The man wiped his hands with a rag he then stuffed into his pocket, and continued, “That’s my baby. Came from an actual tower. It’s the blade of a true hero like Heracles himself.”

“You conquered a tower?” Elijah asked, surprised and awed. He’d beaten two himself, but he’d half expected that he was unique. It only took a moment’s thought to realize how silly it was. The world didn’t revolve around him, and while he was strong, there were probably plenty of people out there who could accomplish similar feats. In fact, the last time he’d looked at the ladder, he’d seen that there were at least eight other people who were higher-leveled than him, so the idea that his experiences were unique was ridiculous.

The man laughed jovially, then said, “Me? No. I’m just a humble merchant. The man who looted it died a few weeks after conquering the tower.” He sobered, then shook his head. “Great man. A great loss.”

“How did he die?”

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

Elijah shook his head. “What gave it away?” he asked.

“What didn’t? Don’t have many blondes in Argos. A few, but it’s a small town, so I know most of them. Plus, I’d have noticed a man walking around in the middle of winter without shoes.”

“Oh. That.”

“So, where’d you come from?”

“Most recently, Norcastle,” Elijah said. He saw no reason to lie. Or maybe he just didn’t like the idea of it. Either way, he wouldn’t shy away from hiding his identity when necessary, but the notion of lying about every facet of his existence was so unappealing that he’d rather deal with the consequences of having his every secret known than try to keep up with a web of lies that would inevitably unravel at all the wrong times. “But before that, I was living just outside a town called Ironshore.”

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“Norcastle. Heard that name once or twice. Never been, but...well, travel isn’t as easy as it used to be, is it?” the man remarked. “Wish it was different, though. Staying cooped up in a little town like this is not the life I’d have envisioned. But enough about that. What can I do for you? No offense, but you don’t look much like a sword-swinger, if you know what I mean. The Healer tag doesn’t help, I’ll grant, but I suppose it takes all kinds. For all I know, you’re going for a Paladin class or something.”

“That’s it, friend. Now, I’m going to assume that none of the items you’re actively wearing are for sale. That belt looks very interesting, though. Very interesting indeed.”

“No. But I do have these,” Elijah said, unshouldering his pack. He reached inside – noting that the merchant was very interested in the pack itself – then retrieved the weapons he’d looted from the elves. He set them on the table, then ended with the sword he’d taken from the Warden. “All for sale.”

Atticus’ eyes widened at the treasure trove of weaponry. Each one of them was higher quality than most of his wares, so he stood to increase the value of his stock by quite a bit.

“Where did you get these?” the merchant asked, leaning close to one of the daggers.

“Here and there. You have your secrets, and I have mine. Anything notable about them?”

“They’re all high Crude,” he said. “On the edge of being Simple-grade. Just called crude steel daggers and swords. But they’re all extremely durable. Better than most of what we have here in town. I’ll give you one silver ethereum each.”

“Hmm.”

“Plus two copper for each.”

“Alright. But that doesn’t include the sword here,” Elijah said, pointing to the weapon he’d taken from the Warden. “It’s better than the rest.”

“Yes. Right. It’s Simple Grade. Called the Punisher,” Atticus explained. “When bonded, it provides an extra two points to Dexterity. It also has a secondary effect called Pain Spike. I’m not certain what it does, but it sounds pretty self-explanatory to me. I can give you ten silver, but that’s my hard cap on a single item. It’s not quite as good as Challenger’s Call out there, but that’s probably a good thing.”

Elijah nodded. “Alright. We’ll add that to the tally. That’s all I’m selling, though,” he said. “But I do need you to identify a couple of things.”

Atticus agreed, though he said he would charge a nominal fee for each service. It only turned out to be a few coppers, so Elijah wasn’t worried about that. The first item he had the merchant identify was the Claws of Gluttony, which garnered quite a reaction.

“Simple-Grade again. Medium, though. This is the best weapon I’ve ever seen,” Atticus said, his voice filled with awe. “It’s...it has a passive ability attached to it. Only activates when bonded. Oh...”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, friend, but unless you’re a bare-knuckle brawler, you’re out of luck. And I can’t afford to buy something like this unless you’re willing to sell it for a fraction of its worth,” Atticus stated.

“What’s the effect?”

“It increases all unarmed damage by nine percent,” he said. “But it also has an effect called Anticoagulant. I’m thinking it causes extra bleeding as a damage-over-time or weakening effect.”

Elijah nodded. “Seems powerful,” he said.

“For the right person, most certainly,” Atticus said. “Not many people fighting with their hands, though. Almost everyone picks up a blade or at least a club. Our guards favor the spear on account of our heritage. But the hero doesn’t need a weapon, I’m told.”

“Hero?”

“Goes by Atlas. Mightiest warrior in the village. He’s hunting the maneater right now. Sad, because he’s surely going to die.”

“What? Why?”

“Because everyone else has,” Atticus said. “But enough of that. Do you have anything else you need identified before we head to the Branch and settle up?”

Elijah did. First came the Silver Bracer of Rage, which turned out to have an additional effect that was unsurprisingly called Rage. Elijah didn’t know what it did, but Atticus had some insight into that sort of thing. “It’s probably a berserking ability,” he said. “Increased attributes or damage at the cost of control. There are a few abilities like that.”

The final item Elijah had Atticus identify was the Sash of the Whirlwind. It had no extra effects, but Elijah did learn that the time dilation was called Haste. However, it was limited to only two percent when unbonded. Once Elijah bonded the item, it would increase to five percent. The attribute bonuses would remain the same.

“Interesting,” Elijah said, retying the sash around his waist.

“I believe you might be the best equipped person I’ve ever seen, and you’re not even wearing any proper armor,” Atticus said with a shake of his head. “I’m sure there’s a story behind all of that.”

Elijah shrugged. “I got stranded in the middle of nowhere when the world changed, so I had to fend for myself. I guess there are benefits to that,” he said. “If you manage to survive.”

Atticus laughed, then clapped Elijah on the shoulder. “You’re not wrong, friend. The survival is the tricky part, I’m sure. Now, come on. Let’s get you paid.”