Dungeons Are Bad Business

Long before Vee was born, Oar’s Crest had been the place to be. Nestled just beneath the lofty peaks of the Emberberry mountains, it had grown rapidly as a place for [Smiths] of all kinds to come together and hone their skills. Thanks to the abundance of easily mined frostnickel – a metal naturally enchanted with the powers of ice and stronger than steel – and bountiful harvests of emberberries, which are small berries that give the eater the power to breathe fire for a short period of time and can be used to make an extremely potent liquor – the city grew rapidly through trade and commerce. For decades, Oar’s Crest weapons and armor were said to be the finest in the world, and armies from all around the continent paid whatever price the [Smiths] demanded to have them in their armories.

Naturally this economic prosperity led to wealth for private individuals, and like countless others throughout history who found their ambitions met with sufficient resources to pursue them, they vied for power with one another. However, instead of the bloodshed wrought by the simple bands of mercenaries, private armies, cunning assassins and whacko cults that marked the contests typical of Lucen, Taggert, and other great cities throughout the world, the citizens of Oar’s Crest battled each other for power and prestige through patronage. The gods had blessed them, they said, and so they wanted to share their wealth with others.

And so the newly created [Moguls] and [Tycoons] hired [Artists], [Musicians], [Playwrights], [Chefs], and all sorts of other classes to create beautiful things for the city to enjoy. The citizens, who knew a bargain when they saw one, rewarded the most valuable contributors with political capital.

Before long, Oar’s Crest was not just a hub of trade activity, but also a cultural center with some of the continent’s best food, fashion, music, and art. The average citizen was almost as wealthy as nobility were elsewhere, and the populace was, for the most part, happy. They worked hard and were paid well for their labor, and the city was a vibrant beacon of life, energy, and prosperity. Vast vineyards of emberberries were planted on the mountain slopes, and the city’s border was surrounded by fertile fields of fruits and vegetables. Agricultural exports almost rivaled forged goods in terms of raw value.

It was peaceful too. The rare [Bandit Warlord] or [Raider] that tried to cause trouble was quickly defeated and subdued by the city's well-trained and well-provisioned force of [Holy Paladins] and [Bastions].

But, everything changed when trade with the far southern continent, Zalumna, opened up. Previously, trade between continents was virtually impossible due to a massive iceberg that was impassable for both ships and caravans, but the rampage of an angry [Summoner] and her quasi-divine [Phoenix] familiar over the death of her lover melted said iceberg and opened a short ocean path.

Virtually overnight, the world became much smaller and the [Smiths] and [Merchants] of Oar’s Crest found themselves competing against products from all around the world, as [Shipping Magnates], [Naval Merchants], and [Traders] of all stripes eagerly hunted for quality products and better prices to offer to their countrymen.

For a few years, this change didn't bother the craftsmen or citizens of Oar’s Crest all that much. The products from Zalumna were almost entirely made of aquapenny, a slightly water-enchanted metal that was inferior to frostnickel in both strength and flexibility. It was cheap crap, suitable for toys and trinkets and nothing more. They laughed and slapped each other on the back as the first handfuls of their clients told them that the new material was good enough for most of their needs and so cheap that they’d be fools not to make the switch. They’ll come crawling back to us and then we’ll charge them double they told one another as one client going elsewhere became two, and then four, and so on.

Blinded by their arrogance and softened from years at the apex of the economic world, the elite of Oar's Crest failed to see how wrong they were. The aquapenny products were good enough for almost everything, and the factories and forges of Zalumna improved rapidly thanks to all the new business. Eventually, the quality of the things they made was such that they almost rivaled products made of frostnickel.

That was when the laughter stopped and the claws of panic took hold of the city. What were they going to do?

At first, the expert craftsmen tried to compete fairly. They looked for places in their workflows where they could make improvements and tried to cut their costs. Their plan was simple: if they could save money on production they could pass those savings on to their customers and preserve their ever-shrinking sources of income. Alas, their efforts yielded naught. They had already optimized their practices and cutting costs led to an unacceptable level of quality loss. Unable to pay their bills, businesses started closing left and right, and the people who’d once so happily worked in them decided to seek their futures elsewhere.

Those who’d spent so much of their money on buying influence and power put both to use, passing all sorts of laws and policies to try and protect the remaining domestic industries. They added tariffs on foreign goods, offered subsidies to preferred makers, and bought unsold inventories with gusto. None of it mattered though, and as their efforts failed to staunch the bleeding caused by this new trade, the city slowly succumbed to economic reality. When the last remnants of fortunes built over decades were spent, the final forges went cold, the last factories fell silent, and the emberberries were left unchecked until they choked out almost all other plant life on the mountains and surrounding plains. Looking for better opportunities elsewhere, the [Farmers], [Orchardists], [Vintners] and [Growers] who’d harvested them and kept their wild growth at bay had all left too. Without these capable people in charge, the city's agricultural output shriveled and died over the next decades, victims of drought and poor crop management, and the last viable sector of business in the city vanished as well.

Over the course of the next eighty years or so, Oar’s Crest became a shell of itself. Most of the buildings were abandoned and left empty. They became places where monsters and fiends took up residence. Those few people of all races who hadn’t left got to know each other well and collectively scrabbled for survival. The underbelly that had always lurked in the shadows of the city – paid for by extortion, substance abuse, and other crimes – came to the surface and existed openly. Sickly sweet memories of better yesterdays stood in the way of any hope for brighter tomorrows.

It was this husk of a city that the carriage arrived in, safely, the next day.

Vee stepped out onto the platform and stretched. He wrinkled his nose at the faint stench of mold and mildew that filled the air, and looked disapprovingly at the unkempt grooms that shuffled forward in their dirty garb to see to the horses.

Alforde followed him, and the armorsoul’s eyes were inscrutable as he looked around. The salamander family and the preening kitrekin all disembarked as well. The little salamander girl ran up to Vee and gave him a big hug he didn’t really think he deserved, but he returned it all the same and waved farewell to her as she walked off the platform hand in hand with her grandmother.

Maryanne climbed down from her perch, with Cris right behind her. She raised her arms to the ceiling and yawned.

“I can’t believe we made it on time,” the paladin said. “Now I won’t have to pay Sacre for being late.”

“That’s good,” Bert said as he exited the carriage. He’d slept almost the entire time and his wolfish smile had returned. “That old slug has plenty of fleurs, he don’t need yers. I always said that yeh should join up with me and the lads. We could use someone like yeh in the crews.”

Maryanne shook her head. “I can’t do that and you know it. I’d lose my powers.”

The bandit snorted. “Yet you work for Sacre.”

“As a carriage driver. It’s honest work, unlike robbery.”

Bert swore and launched into a tirade about how banditry was honest enough in its own way and Vee wondered if he should, like, go somewhere else. Unfortunately, as it was, he was standing between them and had heard enough of his parents’ arguments over the years to know that things were about to get messy. He just hoped that no one was about to start throwing things. He wasn't particularly good at dodging.

[You have unlocked the Uncomfortable Witness class. Would you like to take it?]

Vee frowned. If his memory was correct – which was a decent bet but not certain by any means – he’d been offered that class once before, and had refused it then just as he did now. He hadn’t known that classes could be offered twice, and wasn’t sure he liked it. Part of him had hoped that he was slowly working his way towards a more peaceful life with every trash class he rejected.

Nen tapped Vee on the shoulder and gestured to the far end of the platform. “Come on, they’re going to be impossible to talk to for the next twenty minutes or so. We might as well leave them to it.”

Vee followed the young bandit, and looked back at Maryanne and Bert who were both starting to get animated as they argued. “Do they do that often?”

“All the time,” Nen said. “Back before I was born Da was a [Squire] along with Maryanne, but then he met my ma and decided that the life of a [Holy Paladin] wasn’t for him. After some...uh...time with my ma, he lost his powers and turned to banditry to pay the bills, but he likes to keep in touch with his old comrades. It's good for him. Plus, he won't say this but I'm pretty sure that he likes arguing with Maryanne, because unlike ma she lets him win sometimes.”

Nen and Cris led Vee and Alforde outside into the crisp afternoon air. It was cloudy and gray, and Vee could smell ghosts in the air. It was hard to explain the scent of ectoplasm, but Vee always thought of it as a combination of coconut and lye soap, and that was usually close enough when he explained it to people.

[Congratulations! Traveling somewhere new has given you and all spirits bound to you the ability to earn points in Adventurousness. Adventurousness +2!]

Vee stopped walking and marveled at the popup for a moment. A new stat?! That’d never happened to him before.

When it came to stats, everyone started with the same three: Might, Wit, and Faith. These three were the self-explanatory building blocks of life, the starting points from which all others were created. New stats were earned through life experiences, but no matter what Vee had tried, he’d never managed to acquire any for himself. It seemed beyond strange that one would pop up now, after nothing more than a carriage ride to a new place. He hadn't really done anything to deserve it. Was traveling really such an important part of life?

Or, perhaps there was something more here than met the eye at first glance. Fortunately, Vee was excellent when it came to looking beneath the surface of things. He closed his eyes. “[Second Sight]”

When he reopened them, the world was filled with luminous green shapes, courtesy of his skill. These were ghosts, of course, but they were only the normal kind, and not terribly interesting. For the most part, they were the leftover spirits of insects and small animals and would dissipate on their own in a few hours or a day or two at most. They weren't the kind of ghosts that Vee could really do anything with.

The [Ghost Maestro] couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. He’d been hoping to see blue and purple shapes. Those were the big ghosts – usually born from memories and emotions – that he could really shape to his will. Admittedly, he didn’t really know what he'd do with the big ghosts even if he found them, but that was a problem for future Vee to figure out the answer to.

He kept his skill active, in case anything interesting was waiting for him just down the road and followed Nen and Cris down the dirty street. Everything about the city was filthy. Bits of garbage pressed up against the sidewalks and the broken windows were two or three times as common as the unbroken.

There were a few people here and there, and they all had the hard gazes of those who knew what it was like to live without. Looking into their accusing gazes, Vee felt more than a little self-conscious about his neatly pressed black pants, cream-colored shirt and tailored blue jacket. He felt like he stood out a mile away as someone who didn't belong. Were the people here the type to take exception to an outsider and cause trouble?

Thankfully, Alforde clunked along behind him, and Vee felt a little safer knowing that his friend had his back. He didn’t know what all to expect in town, but was confident in the armorsoul’s ability to handle things if they got messy. Having grown up pampered and moneyed, Vee wasn’t much good when it came to 'talking to others through his fists' as some boys called it, but Alforde took to fighting like a fish to water, as did all of his kind. Despite his big and bulky frame, the armorsoul was quick and slippery, and his instinctive kinetic awareness helped him end up on top of all the schoolyard brawls that they'd been in as kids.

“Say, you two hungry at all?” Nen asked. “I feel like it’d be impolite of me not to offer to buy you guys a meal. Since you're new in town and all.” He smiled and jangled his pocket. It was full of the fleurs that had been Vee’s, as well as almost all of the potions, elixirs, and other contents of Vee’s bag. The [Ghost Maestro] scowled. Nen might not have been a great bandit, but he was an eerily good gambler. They’d played probably close to a hundred hands of cards before Vee had to call it quits, and Nen had won all but maybe seven of them. The result was that in addition to needing to find money for day to day expenses, Vee now also had to scrounge up extra income to replace his lost supplies. He didn’t even know where to begin doing so. Luckily, that too was another problem for future Vee to solve.

Right now, all he could think of was his rumbling stomach. It'd been a while since he'd last eaten. He said as much, and the bandit brothers led the way to a small diner called The Grinning Pig.

[You have unlocked the Stomach Thinker class, would you like to take it?]

Vee sighed, and dismissed the notification as he stepped through the open door in front of him.

Vee and Alforde’s Stat Sheets:

Vee Vales:

Primary Class: Ghost Maestro (Locksmagister University), Level 13

Secondary Class: None

Might: 6

Wit: 18

Faith: 11

Adventurousness: 2 (+2)

Alforde Armorsoul:

Primary Class: Clunker (Vee Vales), Level 9

Secondary Class: Right-hand man (Vee Vales), level 7

Might: 12

Wit: 10

Faith: 20

Adventurousness (Bound – Vee Vales): 0