The heavy double doors of Giovanni's shut behind them, muffling the faint sounds of clinking dishes and the loud cussing of the chefs and waiters within as they were finally able to begin cleaning up, much to the slight embarrassment of the three of them for having them work overtime.
As they stepped onto the cobblestone street that was currently lit by the lamps placed on the opposite side of the sidewalks, Deacon turned and craned his neck up to get one last look at Giovanni's. The sign above flickered slightly, the sigil of a cleaver crossing a cooking pan glowing faintly with warmth.
"Thirty thousand credits," Deacon muttered, voice somewhere between disbelief and resignation as he carried two crates packed to the brim with food. "I mean, I get that it was a last-minute order, but like, come on..."
Bonehead snorted, also carrying two crates. "I mean, it is three months of high-calorie food, and for four people? That's cheap. Not to mention the calcium-enriched meals you got separately for me, I mean, I get that while I don't need to eat or sleep on account of me being an undead, I do enjoy having to snack on the one thing I can eat when all of you are eating."
"I mean it's fine, money is meant to be spent anyways," Sam added, sidestepping a puddle while carrying a singular crate. "Not to mention, you should never cheap out on supplies. Only complete dumbasses do that, and seven times out of ten, those that do that end up getting their group killed as a result of poor supplies, as we learned in our lectures."
Deacon reluctantly nodded to the both of them as he unzipped his Spatial Sling Bag that hung around his torso. With a bit of help, he began sliding each of the crates into the bag's dimensional pocket, which now contained: three months' worth of food packs for all five of them, all categorized and vacuum-sealed, the calcium-enriched meal kits wrapped in red cord to denote that it was for Bonehead only, and the rest of his gear from Waayland's General: the Compact Cooling Unit, the three bundles of kindling, the three bundles of parchment, and the 25 Leave Tickets. The crates all slid in his Spatial Sling Bag and vanished with a shimmer as they passed the dimensional threshold.
"I don't think I'll ever get sick of seeing that," Deacon muttered under his breath as the small sling bag was able to stuff all that stuff inside it without any issue, not to mention, he'd only taken up a about 1% of the storage with all that he stuffed inside it.
The only things he didn't store were the two unopened Spatial Sling Bags meant for Jass and Esmerelda, those stayed secured in the front pack pressed tight against his chest. The reason why wasn't because he was afraid of accidentally Soulbinding them, that could only be done with intent and with his blood, no, it was because a small spatial pocket cannot hold another small spatial pocket inside them without imploding. He personally wasn't sure why that was the case, but he wasn't going to risk testing out if that was true.
"So, tell us, what did you see in Floors that you cleared, Floors One and Two?" Sam asked, eyeing the arguing guards out of the corner of his right eye. A few meters over, a group of city guards argued over jurisdiction while leaning on their spears.
"Yeah, we need to know the general idea of what to expect," Bonehead excitedly added. "While we know that the Main Floor Quest would obviously be changed due to the death of the Floor Boss, we can make some preparations on what could be asked of us when we reach those Floors."
"Okay, so," Deacon said just before explaining the setting and genre of Floors One and Two as their boots echoed softly against the cobblestone pathway. Making sure to go into detail about the various types of creatures he'd seen, how he killed them, where food supplies and the like were stashed, where the electrical grids on Floor One were, and where to find a Laptop, and where the passwords are.
He'd even mentioned to the both of them about Moriah's Hidden Quest, just as he did for both Jass and Esmerelda back when they were eating s'mores.
By the time he finished explaining all he knew and discovered on Floors One, Two, and Three, they had gone past the wide arch of Merchant's Cross and into the Old Forge District, where most of the smiths, gearwrights, and metal-affiliated Production Classes clustered together. The air was denser here, warmer, tinged with soot and mana still lingering from late-night smithing work.
"You still using that same blacksmith from before?" Bonehead asked, squinting as a half-lit lantern buzzed overhead. "The one who had to teach you how to use a whetstone properly after you somehow broke one the moment the academy let us guys start training with steel?"
"Yeah, he's the one I went to, to properly learn how to use one," Deacon said. "He was the smith my dad took me to when we went out to get my short swords for my seventh birthday."
"Right, where are your short swords?" Sam said. "I know the ones on your back aren't those cause those grips look new, and you'd never replace them on account of you being a cheapskate."
"Ah, right, I forgot to tell you both," Deacon muttered before leading them into an alley and away from the smiths to not make a scene by unsheathing blades in public.
Bonehead let out a low whistle at the sight of Echoform Reliquary after having used Identify on it. "You actually fucking found that?... Bro, actually fuck you and your bullshit luck. Weren't you gonna try and save up as much as you could in order to purchase one at the Auction House on Floor 15?"
"Yup," Deacon smirked before suddenly remembering something and reaching into a couple of his side pouches.
Taking out his messily folded Poncho of the Radiation Walker, he passed it to Sam. "Here, this should give you a way to walk through the radioactive rain that sporadically comes down on Floor One."
Muttering a quick thanks, Sam then stuffed it into an inner pocket in his coat.
Then, turning to Bonehead, he gave him his Mycelial Grasp, the first Artifact he found. "Here, these will better suit you since you use poisons and such when you fight. Not sure if the spores it can create can be bottled up, but the poison it releases when the vines bind around the hilt of a weapon is nasty against the creatures on Floor Two."
After he said that, he hesitated for a second, trying to recall a memory. "But, I'm not sure how effective it is on the mutants on Floor One, as I got it as a reward for getting the last hit on the Floor One Final Boss."
"Holy shit, an Artifact?... You serious, man?" Bonehead exclaimed before quickly muffling his voice. "It's a poison one too man… Are you sure you don't want to save it until we reach the Auction House, because if you don't, I'm gonna Soulbind it to me because of how fucking rare poison Artifacts are – I can adapt them to various poisons I concoct with the upgrade materials I give it and..."
"Ah, who cares about that?" Deacon dismissed as Bonehead began to trail off, holding the gloves to his chest like it was some sort of puppy. "I was planning on giving it to you from the moment I got it, as you are the only poison user I know, and selling it when you'd benefit the most from it is just plain stupid."
After brushing away a couple more of the thank yous from Bonehead and Sam, the three of them stepped out of the alley they were in and back onto the cobblestone streets and continued on their way towards Deacon's Blacksmith.
Turning down a narrow side street where most of the lampposts began to dim, the trio stopped in front of a sturdy stone building with a heavy stone chimney that continued to belch out puffs of dark smoke, and across the frame of the dark oak door was a sign bearing a simplified image of a hammer atop an anvil.
The words "Hüterin des Ambosses" were carved below it in Old Common, seared into the wood with flame.
As they stepped through the open doors, a wave of heat and familiarity washed over Deacon. The walls of the shop section of the smithy were lined with racks of various magical and non-magical tools, weapons, Tier 1 and Tier 2 Metals, and various suits of armor, far outside his price range. At the far end, behind a thick oaken counter, was a broad-shouldered man with dark skin and a scar that split his left brow, leaning against the counter while sharpening an axe head with a whetstone.
The smith looked up, one eye narrowing, the other a glowing socket of arcane brass. "The hell are you doing here so early?" He asked, voice like gravel soaked in whiskey. "'ts been only a couple of days since your graduation, and ya ain't even got your first class skill yet."
"Can't a guy come by and say hello to his favorite blacksmith?" Deacon retorted with a lopsided grin.
Sam snorted, taking a seat on an anvil-shaped bench near the counter.
Bonehead elbowed Deacon. "You didn't say your smith was a human. Most of the smithies are owned by the dwarves."
"And those short fucks could go and eat pig shite if they think imma let them take over me shop," the smith retorted without looking at them, wiping his hands on a rag before walking around the counter. "Name's Murdren. If you're friends of his, don't touch anything that glows red, green, or blue unless you want to explode, cause those are still in their experimental stages."
"Noted," Bonehead said, raising both his skeletal palms innocently.
Deacon stepped forward and unbuckled the strap holding Echoform Reliquary, drawing the dual short swords free in one fluid motion, sheaths and all, and laying them across the counter. "I need an upgrade for them, my current budget is around 15k credits, but I can spend a bit more if you've got something good. I've been using these since Floor Two, where I got them, and just upgraded with my dual steel short swords that my dad bought from you."
"Oh, ho," Murdren said as he placed down the axe head he was sharpening and Identified Echoform Reliquary in its dual short sword form. "It's been quite some time since I've seen an Echoform Reliquary."
"You've seen one before?" Bonehead chimed, looking toward Murdren as he looked away from the daggers made from various Tier 2 Metals.
"Don't act so surprised now," Murdren chuckled as he turned around to push open the door that led into his smithy. "You lot are the 327th generation of climbers, which means that there are 327 Echoform Reliquaries within the Tower." His voice echoed within the room, audible to the trio even as they were in another room.
"While most of them are still hidden, just like most Artifacts within the Tower, I have seen and worked with my fair share of them," he said while entering back into the shop section of his smithy. "Your father used to use one," he said, turning his gaze to stare into Deacon's eyes. "… a shame what's happened to him, though. He was a good man…"
A pregnant pause filled the air within the smithy before Murdren cleared his throat and continued. "Doesn't matter now, let's talk about what Tier 1 Metal you want to use to upgrade it. I personally recommend an alloy I made called Inconel-Tungsten, which takes the high temperature durability and combines it with the physical hardness of tungsten, without the issue of it being brittle."
"And how much would that be?" Deacon asked, to which Murdren turned his gaze back to the Echoform Reliquary on the table.
Another pregnant pause came over the smithy, but just as Deacon was about to break the silence, Murdren did. "12k credits, but it'll take an hour for me to properly merge the metals."
"I thought you'd just be able to place the metal atop the sword, and it'll just absorb it. That's what it did to my short swords," Deacon said, brows furrowed.
"Ya could do that, but it then ends up being a game of chance on whether it actually absorbs the metal or not," Murdren explained. "Ya were lucky that your short swords were able to upgrade the metal of Echoform Reliquary into Steel, because statistically, ya had an 87% chance of it not upgrading from wood to Tier 1 Steel."