Chương 19: (19) B1 C19: Orders

I brought my attention to the next item that caught my attention. The broken wand discarded on the ground had been destroyed during a moment of heated ferocity, yet after realizing that I might've been able to sell it later on if I hadn't been so brash, I found myself somewhat regretting my decision. I crouched, then lifted both of the ends to more thoroughly examine them. They were smoking with a blue ember, almost like azure colored cigarettes, yet neither of the two ends were warm to the touch.

It was only when I directly put the end of my index finger against the blue tip did I finally feel a hint of warmth. The wand itself was dark and fine, somewhat like mahogany, and was decorated with simple flourishes mimicking the design of a long wisp of flame. At the base of the wand, where a pommel would've been on a sword, was a small orange gemstone about the size of a grape.

Slaver's Wand of Ember | BROKEN - Worthless Revision A Common Wand of Ember that was purchased for a few silver coins at a recent Auction. This Wand was made out of high quality wood, relative to its low level, but it hasn't been maintained very well since it was purchased. The Carnelian Gem at the base is infused with the skill [Firebolt]. – Broken Equipment: Items that lose enough of their durability will become broken.

To restore this item to a functional state, you must repair it with the help of either an Arcanist or an Enchanter. — Firebolt: A spell that allows you to do a ranged attack using your Hex Damage stat. Your opponent will then take slight burning damage over the next three seconds. So the firebolts had come from the wand itself, then. That explained why Norman had surrendered as soon as I'd broken it. The wand had been his only chance at victory and without it he was essentially useless.

The gust of wind he used earlier to upset my balance might have legitimately been the strongest spell he personally knew, and even that failed to do a single point of damage. I turned away from the wand, then began to more thoroughly loot Norman's corpse. Other than the set of robes he wore, I didn't find anything special. The robes themselves, though, were obviously magically enchanted, even if they were a bit dull.

As I held them in my hands, I was somewhat reminded of the hospital scrubs that nursing students from my college often wore, only these were significantly bigger. The brown fabric was thin and smooth, yet frayed at the edges and covered in specks of dirt. The sleeves draped down to the elbows and the pants tickled the ankles. Where the robes folded in at the chest was a small iron necklace. It wasn't enchanted, and thus couldn't be considered an amulet, but I snagged it to sell later anyways.

Slaver Mage Robes - Worthless Revision A set of mage robes standard to a specific slaver caravan operating out of the southern plains of the Highmarket Consortium. There isn't anything special about this outfit, despite the enchantments running through its fibers. – Included Equipment: Robes: +20% Resilience Pants: +15% Resilience Gloves: +5% Resilience Sandals: +5% Resilience — Final Bonus: +45% Resilience These robes were better than what I had now, yet still not what I wanted.

Although my Resilience stat was lower than it should've been, and thus was a slightly higher priority, I wanted to focus more on Fortitude so I'd be more prepared for close combat action. I wasn't a mage or a ranger, and thus needed something to help me deal with sticky situations. I looked to the left, where I found Dave's remains slumped against the ground. Unlike Norman, he didn't carry any sort of jewelry or enchanted equipment.

The only thing I found on his person that wasn't equipment of some kind was a single scrap of paper. Upon unfolding it, I sat down on the fallen log next to me and began to read. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Sgt. David Shaw, Your orders are as follows: Navigate through the eastern forest for three days, being sure to avoid the established roads, as noted on the map in camp.

You will find your destination at the campsite of the old clearing, just seven miles east of the North-Point Ferry Station. Once there, you will wait for one of our slave caravans led by Master Sergeant Carissa Ryan, who will meet you after undocking from the North-Point Ferry Station. She will be escorting the most recent batch of merchandise sourced from Veilarus. 8 Adults, 1 Teenager—5 of which are male while the rest are female.

This batch is extremely important, to both our prospective buyers and to the Consortium as a whole, so it is your utmost priority to ensure that this batch arrives safely at the Mercentoria slavers market, specifically to Slave Master Johann, at which point your assignment will conclude. Granite Squad will act as your forward scouts as you travel to Mercentoria, so they will always be at least three miles in front of you. Refer to the standard smoke signals in case of a forward encounter.

Do not rely on the Granite Squad to react to all sources of danger, as this is hot cargo. One of the slaves you're transporting holds immense political importance to our relationship between Veilarus and Osmoria. We don't know which of the slaves they are, only that the subject is a woman. Assigned to travel with you on the journey to the rendezvous are High Corporal Norman Daniels and his cousin, Corporal Eddie Daniels. Rely on the pair for their skills, expertise, and knowledge.

Norman is one of our up and coming strategists, while Eddie is talented in nature magic. This is an extremely important shipment, so the Captain is going to pay extra attention to how it goes. I repeat: DO NOT FAIL! We will be expecting you back in no more than three months. If you are gone for longer, your pay will be docked and an investigation into the cause of your delay will be opened. Signed, Quartermaster Ray"Oh," I nodded to myself as I held the paper closer to me.

If these guys were here waiting for somebody from the docks, it would explain why they were so agitated. Whoever they were waiting on was obviously late, and that wasn't going to change anytime soon.

"Lets see here… merchandise… group of slaves…" I mumbled as I reread some parts of the letter, "Were the slaves killed during the dock attack the same ones mentioned here? So the attack was politically motivated!" I gave it some thought. Why would the Veilarians want to rescue one slave in particular, then remove all evidence of them being there?

I'd figured that one of their nobles had been captured and turned into a slave without their knowledge, or they were just fucking around without any care for international relations, so I wasn't surprised to find my initial hypothesis all but confirmed. What I was surprised by was that Osmoria was somehow involved. Those two nations were just about as opposite as they could be. The pair weren't exactly enemies, but neither were they friends.

Yet this letter implied that they'd both be annoyed if one of the slaves wasn't rescued. I sighed and left my thoughts to simmer on their own. Then I let the letter fall to the ground before I turned to the rest of Dave's armor. It took me a few minutes to pull his armor from his corpse, courtesy of the unfamiliar straps and buckles. Slaver Leather Armor - Worthless Revision A set of leather armor standard to a specific slaver caravan operating out of the southern plains of the Highmarket Consortium.

There isn't anything special about this outfit, though it can take a few hits. – Included Equipment: Jerkin: +10% Fortitude. +10% Resilience. Trousers: +7. 5% Fortitude. +7. 5% Resilience. Bracers: +2. 5% Fortitude. +2. 5% Resilience. Boots: +2. 5% Fortitude. +2. 5% Resilience. — Final Bonus: +23% Fortitude. +23% Resilience. So this was medium armor, then? I felt a smile creep upon my face. This was the armor for rogues. It wasn't too slow, but nor was it too fast.

Luckily, the two Fortitude and Resilience stats ended in decimal points, and thus rounded up in my favor. It was a tiny advantage, yet an advantage nonetheless. I was still pretty sure that I would've preferred to see how full Fortitude felt, but I doubted that I'd find armor that was able to support my movement and defense in a way that left both satisfied. I took a few minutes to clean the blood off of the collar before I began to put it on.

Getting the armor on took me an entire twenty minutes—mainly because I was one person trying to figure out how this shit worked—but eventually I'd found where all the straps, belts, and buckles were supposed to go. The boots were easiest to slip on, but everything else was a nightmare to figure out. The armor wasn't fancy, of course, but rather made in poor quality and uncomfortable to wear. Some straps seemed like they should've gone over my shoulder, but instead went around my abs.

Others clearly belonged to my chest, but fit better on my shoulders—overall, it was a pain. Once I was clothed, I looked down and inspected myself. The armor primarily focused on protecting my chest and abdomen, but my shoulders, arms, and legs were well defended as well. My only complaint was that there were no decorations included to make myself look like a badass. It was a vain thought, but a firm one. Instead of feeling awesome, I was wearing armor slightly too big for me while standing in awkward silence.

Some parts of the armor were either baggy or too tight, which left it feeling uncomfortable no matter how I wore it. It was sixth grade Halloween all over again, but at least my shortsword finally fit into a scabbard at my hip. Afterwards, I took Dave's pack and dumped everything else I planned to carry into it. Dumped into the bottom of the pack were the two sets of matching robes, both belonging to Eddie and Norman, as well as the enchanted ring that Norman was wearing.

Afterwards, I gathered everything that I considered even remotely valuable and put it all in the pack on top of the enchanted objects. I couldn't take anything from Eddie's tent, considering everything within had gone to cinders by this point, and anything too large to carry in the pack or on my person was left behind.

"Now then," I mumbled to myself as I adjusted my armor, "What to do next?" I was briefly tempted to go after the scouts mentioned in the letter, but I didn't know how I'd find them in the time I had left. There were roughly five hours left in the night—three if I considered how long I'd need to return to the cave before morning. Although the letter had mentioned that the scouts were at least three miles ahead of Norman's group, their exact location was completely unknown. Were they hiding in the east? The north?

Were they hiding further than the three mile range I'd expected to find them in? The letter was too vague to tell me where I'd be able to look, and I figured the three hours of activity I had left wouldn't be enough time to fix that. Which meant I had a full three hours to dedicate to other things. When I'd walked past the docks earlier I'd noticed that the fires had long-since gone out. Only ash and scars remained, but maybe there was something worth looting underneath all of the rubble?

Or I could go back into the forest and hope to find breakfast within the time I had left until sunrise? Lucia still needed something to eat, but I didn't want to assume she was completely helpless without me. Or maybe she was? Hells, I had no idea. Regardless, I was going to be heading east—back to the docks.

I only trusted myself to find the cave by making my way through those regions of the forest I'd already become familiar with, as stumbling through the unfamiliar woodlands would only lead to me becoming completely lost.