Chapter 8

  Work

  It took a while to find a townsperson who was willing to speak to us, but eventually one pointed us in the direction of the town square. Apparently, there was a ‘Jobs Board’ that people used when they were looking for work.

  I felt my disappointment grow as I ran my eyes over the work on offer. They all required the applicant to possess some actual skill and knowledge. I was in short supply of both. Sure, if they'd wanted someone to input data on a spreadsheet or cut down a tree, I was their man. Unfortunately, none of the jobs matched those descriptions.

  “Do you know how to ‘refine alchemical ingredients to ensure their potency in the application of potion making’?” I asked Rel, quoting the last of the listings.

  Before Rel had time to respond, we were interrupted by an impatient voice.

  “Step aside, fools!” it snapped.

  We both turned to see who'd spoken. It was a man that looked almost human. His height and build were similar to mine, and his facial features would not at all have been out of place on Earth. He had long brown hair that reached his shoulders and a carefully sculpted goatee. There was, however, one major difference that set him apart from every other human I’d met … his skin was blue, like that of a Smurf who'd never seen the sun.

  He wore plate mail armour forged from a golden metal. It had been polished to an obnoxious degree - to the point that it was uncomfortable to look at where the sun touched it. An outlandishly large battle axe was strapped across his back, the handle so long that it almost touched the ground.

  Fantastic. He was one of those pompous assholes that strutted around the town like they owned the place.

  Rel opened his mouth, no doubt about to explain politely why such rude behaviour was unacceptable, when I noticed what the man had in his hand: a job advertisement!

  I nudged Rel with my foot to cut off the expletive-laden rant before it could begin.

  “Of course! Err… good sir! Apologies for getting in your way,” I said, stepping aside and gesturing towards the board while giving a small bow.

  He grunted and stepped forward, lifting the advertisement to pin it to the board.

  I stood directly behind him, peeking over his shoulder.

  EXPEDITION ATTENDANT WANTED – DO NOT APPLY IF USELESS

  A Trialist of proven capability seeks a helper to assist during climbs of The Tower of Potential.

  Your role is simple:

  Carry my things (essential)

  Keep out of the way (essential)

  Do not die (preferable)

  You will be responsible for loot retrieval, inventory sorting, and ensuring food and drink are available when required.

  You are not expected to fight. In fact, I would prefer you stay well out of my way.

  Assuming you survive, payment will be 1 gold per day.

  Applicants lacking common sense, physical stamina, or the ability to follow orders should seek employment elsewhere.

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  If interested, seek me out at the Trialist Accommodation Centre beside the Tower. Ask for Kaelis.

  The Tower of Potential? Ah, so that’s what the unreasonably large building in the centre of the town was called.

  I looked at Rel, who just shrugged.

  I cleared my throat.

  “I see you’re in need of a…” I began, before glancing back at the advertisement. “An expedition attendant.”

  The man ran his eyes over the two of us, his distaste clear.

  “I am,” he snapped. “What is it to you?”

  “Well. It just so happens that my friend and I are experienced expedition attendants.”

  I nudged Rel with my foot.

  “Indeed,” said Rel, swatting my boot furiously before assuming a very dignified air. “We have supported many brave Trialists like yourself as they battle their way through the floors of the Tower.”

  The man did not look convinced. He studied us both for a few moments before he spoke.

  “Experienced? Is that right?” he said thoughtfully. “Very well. In that case, what would you do if your Trialist was being overwhelmed and seemed to be in need of help?

  I glanced at the advertisement again.

  “Well, I’d stay out of the way,” I said. “After all, who am I to think I’d be able to help someone so clearly superior to myself?

  The man grunted in approval.

  “Exactly right. It’s good that you know your place,” he said. “Fine. I’m planning a Tower run this afternoon; we can use that as a trial to assess your competence. Or, assuming my initial judgment of you is correct, your complete lack of competence. Saying that, you can’t be any worse than my previous attendant.”

  Wait.

  “What happened to your previous attendant?” I asked, somewhat reluctantly.

  “The fool got himself killed,” snorted the man. “He slipped on some blood and impaled himself on a dead troll’s spear.”

  He shook his head ruefully, the way someone might when recalling a fond childhood memory.

  “Right, meet me outside the Tower in an hour’s time.”

  As we watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but notice that the size of the axe forced him to walk in a very goofy way.

  “This place is full of clowns,” said Rel, with a disbelieving shake of his head. “By the way, what do we know about being ‘expedition attendants’?”

  I shrugged.

  “How hard can it be? We carry his shit for him, stay out of the way, and pass him something to eat or drink when he needs it. Besides, one gold a day! I’ll be able to buy plenty of new shirts for that!”

  * * *

  “Good, you’re on time,” said Kaelis. He looked a little surprised when we arrived, almost as if he hadn’t expected us to turn up.

  “Of course,” I said. “We’re professionals.”

  Kaelis nodded approvingly.

  “Our admittance slot is fifteen minutes from now, so we can use this time to discuss what I expect from you.”

  He unhooked a small black pouch from his belt and handed it to me. I looked down at it, confused.

  “Kaelis…,” I said slowly. “Don’t you think we’d be better off bringing a bigger bag? I’m not sure this one will hold much loot.”

  He stared at me with narrowed eyes, as if deciding whether I was mocking him. Thankfully, he let out a roar of laughter.

  “A bigger bag?” he said, slapping his armoured thigh. Clang. Clang. Clang. “I do appreciate an attendant with a sense of humour. Very good.”

  Rel and I shared a look and I silently mouthed, What the fuck is going on? He just shook his head, looking as confused as I felt.

  “So,” continued Kaelis. “In terms of loot, I’m not interested in things that require vast quantities to be valuable – teeth, bones and that sort of thing. Don’t bother collecting them.”

  I nodded along, making agreeable noises at what seemed like the appropriate times. I wished I had a notepad I could pull out to add to the effect.

  “Ensure you pick up any item that is graded uncommon or above. Essentially, if an item has individual value, I want it. In terms of breaks, we will stop periodically for refreshments. Everything we need should be in the storage,” he said, nodding toward the little pouch he’d handed me.

  Either this guy was nuts, or there was more to the pouch than first appearances would suggest.

  “Any questions?” Kaelis asked.

  I paused for a moment before I responded, staring thoughtfully into the distance. I shook my head.

  “Good. Wait here while I go and sign us in.”

  The moment he turned his back, I lifted the pouch to have a closer look. It was tiny. Refreshments? You’d be lucky to a fit a sandwich in the thing.

  I loosened the strings and peeked inside.

  “What the fuck!” I said, jumping a little.

  Whoops.

  I looked up to see several people staring at me, apparently outraged that a lowly attendant would dare to speak above a whisper in their presence. I resisted the urge to give them the finger and looked back down at the pouch.

  When I stared inside, a screen appeared in my vision. It was similar to the one that informed me of stat gains, only bigger. It showed a rectangular grid with twelve rows of four. A few of the slots were already taken, small images representing the items held inside. One was a glass of water, another a loaf of bread, and a few that looked as if they were potions of some sort.

  “Rel,” I whispered. “Check this shit out.”

  I placed the pouch on the floor. He stood on his tiptoes to peek inside.

  “What the fuck!” he squeaked, jumping a little.

  If the people around us had looked outraged before, they appeared downright scandalised now. The only difference was, Rel did not resist the impulse to give them the finger.

  I’ve got to say, seeing a squirrel flipping people off was one of the highlights of my life so far.