Queueing for the requests was less ordered. Some adventurers would walk up to the board and rip them off the wall, while others swarmed the staff manning that area. There was a particular bias for the leftmost stall, which was completely swamped. The receptionist was completely obscured. The other running stall had very few people to service, to the point where the whole desk was visible. They were being completely avoided. Duggan pointed to it.
DUGGAN: Let's go to that one.
RYAN: It probably isn't busy for a reason.
RYAN: Like a bad reputation or personality.
DUGGAN: Aw, look at 'em, they look harmless.
RYAN: Okay, but you're responsible.
DUGGAN: I'll remember that if we get a good service.
RYAN: You're such a flake.
DUGGAN: What's that? I don't get stuck-up slang.
We headed over to the empty table. Sitting behind it, the receptionist glistened with blue scales. He had webbed flaps drooping from his face. As we were approaching, he looked distant. But now that we were right next to him, he looked delighted.
URKEL: How can I help you? Looking for a request?
RYAN: Yes, we're-
URKEL: New adventurers? Do you want combat oriented or gathering oriented tasks?
RYAN: We want noncomb-
URKEL: Non combatants? Sure thing.
Urkel opened the large book in front of him and flipped through it precisely.
URKEL: If you don't have any in mind, how about harvesting sard roots? You need to gather at least 10 to count as completing a request, but you will be compensated for extras.
URKEL: You can submit the same request twice. If you're worried about fulfilling your requirements, you just need forty between the two of you and your all set.
URKEL: I can give you another request, if you'd rather.
URKEL: There's a demand for swallow grass right now, if you'd like to-
DUGGAN: We'll take it.
Urkel proceeded to describe the sard roots and the swallow grass, where they were located, and how to gather them, as well as the rewards. Then, he pulled out the requests with a transcription of the information he had given us, making the explanation a waste of time.
I could tell why the other receptionist was the overwhelming preference. That desk was processing requests at the same pace they were coming in. Well, so was this desk, but only because it might be another hour before Urkel gets another customer. Requester? Someone using his services.
URKEL: I just need to sign off on the requests and document that you're doing them.
URKEL: Tulip does that in post, but I don't have as good a memory so I have to do it as I go.
After some more praise for Tulip, Urkel got us to say our names and ranks. He wrote this down and finally, finally we could leave.
RYAN: Thanks.
URKEL: Come again!
DUGGAN: Uh huh.
Just a few paces away, Duggan went off.
DUGGAN: Not if I can.
RYAN: He wasn't so bad.
DUGGAN: He drained my life away.
DUGGAN: I saw you sagging.
RYAN: It could've been... worse.
DUGGAN: It could've been a whole lot better.
DUGGAN: He kept cuttin' you off. I didn't like that.
DUGGAN: Don't expect he'll be having a surge of popularity.
I resisted an urge to look back to Urkel. Did he hear us? The place was lively enough.
-----
The first thing on my agenda was emptying my pockets.
We strolled down Main Street looking for a general store to sell what we could. I wasn't sure a leather ball or a pouch of wool would fetch much. I also thought selling the painting would be difficult, as it was more specialized.
I would be keeping the fire bomb, of course.
With that, my pockets would be free (mostly) and I could buy a backpack to carry the sard roots (and later, more gachapon balls). I probably could afford one with what we had now, but who can say.
Duggan and I approached a large store called "General on Main", with a sign the shape of a laden bag. Up to this point, I had been sure that I could sell my items. Seeing the busy storefront through the windows, I thought for the first time about how that transaction would go.
RYAN: How am I going to do this?
RYAN: I can't open my gachapon balls inside or on the street without showing off my power.
RYAN: And I'm not about to go into an alley again.
RYAN: How am I going to answer where I got this stuff?
RYAN: I don't even know if they buy things, I'm just assuming that.
MENU: Maybe Duggan has an idea?
I addressed Duggan.
RYAN: Duggan, how should I sell my stuff?
RYAN: I don't want to show anyone my powers, but I want to empty my pockets out before we go out for the sard roots.
DUGGAN: Well we'll need a bag for 'em, so why not buy bags now and sell stuff later?
DUGGAN: We can store 'em in them, making your pockets free.
DUGGAN: Then, in the forest or wherever those roots grow, you can open the orbs for when we return.
DUGGAN: No one sees.
RYAN: That's... a really good idea.
RYAN: Thanks Duggan.
DUGGAN: Aww, k'mere you little snot.
Duggan pulled me into a hug. His clothes were rough and scratchy, though he smelled a lot better than I thought he would, like soil and grass.
After a couple seconds, I pushed him away.
RYAN: Okay.
RYAN: Let's go in.
DUGGAN: Maybe if we have coin left over we can buy a trowel for the roots.
RYAN: A trowel?
DUGGAN: A lil' shovel.
I entered the store, Duggan in tow. A little bell chimed.
It wasn't as packed as I had first thought. The store was large, with low shelves stocked with various goods. It had the vibe of a modest grocery store, but with higher aisle variety. Also, it was mainly wood.
The customers went up to the counter instead of picking items out beforehand. Some browsed, but they didn't pick anything out. Several attendants wearing matching white tops moved around the store, stocking items and pulling them off shelves.
We got in line.
MENU: There's a lot of queueing in this world too.
RYAN: Well, I won't be caught off guard this time.
I patiently waited to get to the front. I imagined what I wanted: one backpack and one or two trowels. Maybe ask about where to sell paintings. No, that would be too forward. Just one backpack and one trowel. Not two, I reminded myself, Duggan will need to keep watch. We can't both be prone at the same time.
MENDEL: How can I help you?
He was sharp, with green brown skin like smooth bark. His hair was slicked back. Something about him felt old and stuffy, like he had outlived his era. Perfectly black eyes focused on me.
RYAN: I'd like to buy a backpack and a trowel.
MENDEL: Any other specifications?
RYAN: The backpack is for me, it should be simple but sturdy. A cheap trowel will do.
MENDEL: Just a moment.
The teller turned to one of the other employees, who was holding a backpack and a trowel. They had no face. I yelped in surprise.
RYAN: Ah!
MENDEL: Oh, don't mind the staff.
I noticed it now: every single one of the white shirts had no face, with the same build and mannequin quality to them.
MENDEL: Will these do?
I reached out for the items.
RYAN: May I?
MENDEL: Of course.
I took the backpack. It was brown leather, stiff but sturdy. The size looked more than ample, and it would be able to carry all of my old textbooks, a lunch, and a set of extra clothes with room to spare. The trowel was a mini-shovel, with a smooth wooden handle and an ugly metal blade.
RYAN: How much for each?
MENDEL: 1 Silver and 18 copper for the backpack, 2 silver and 50 copper for the trowel.
RYAN: Do you have another similar backpack?
He grabbed a backpack from another of the staff. It looked like a replica of the first, just slightly off. My guess was they were made by different people.
MENDEL: Your total will be 4 silver and 86 copper.
RYAN: Duggan?
Duggan handed me the coin purse. The teller noted the interaction, but said nothing.
After a little digging, I fished out five silver coins. The rest were copper, so hopefully we would have enough to get a place to stay.
RYAN: Do you have change?
MENDEL: Yes, right away.
He slid the silver across the counter and placed 14 copper into my hands. I counted them with my fingers, just to be sure.
MENDEL: Here you are.
The second backpack was handed over.
MENDEL: Anything else?
RYAN: ….
RYAN: Do you buy things from customers?
MENDEL: That depends on the things, and the customers.
MENDEL: I likely won't buy anything you get from that trowel, we tend to mediate gathered and farmed products through the adventurer's guild.
RYAN: What about paintings?
The teller re-appraised us.
MENDEL: That isn't a decision I can make off-hand.
MENDEL: Who is the artist?
RYAN: A friend.
MENDEL: I see….
MENDEL: I'd have to see it.
MENDEL: Even then, it would be Iqbal's decision, not mine. They own this store.
MENDEL: If you're thinking of looking elsewhere, there aren't any local galleries.
MENDEL: This isn't a big city.
MENDEL: And a noble's shop wouldn't buy art off unknown hands.
RYAN: Oh.
MENDEL: If we agreed to buy it, we would need proof it wasn't forged.
MENDEL: Is that all for today?
I was shut down. It looks like the painting would be even harder to sell than I thought. I didn't even know if it was any good. Based off of the quality of previous orbs, though, I believed it would be above average.
DUGGAN: What if we could bring the artist?
MENDEL: Paintings from new artists rarely sell well.
MENDEL: It would work as verification.
DUGGAN: Well, we'll bring 'em.
RYAN: (Duggan!)
DUGGAN: What? I can get 'em here.
MENDEL: Is there anything else?
He was trying to prompt us to leave.
RYAN: No, thank you.
I passed a backpack to Duggan and put mine on. The trowel sat in the bottom. I also moved the three inessential orbs in. One of the faceless mannequins waved us out. We were back on the street.
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