The Humble Life of a Skill Trainer

Every performance comes with a flaw. There is always that moment where the mask slips, the actor’s own face peeks through, and the illusion is broken. For my current performance, the flaw was obvious. There was only one of me playing two parts, and my Master never left the shop while also never missing an appointment. Even a casual observation would convince someone that something was fishy. My hope was that a watcher would assume that my Master had some hidden escape route.

Of course, I didn’t trust to luck. I actually used this flaw as yet another mask in my act.

After cleaning my equipment, I bundled up the paperwork, with the amended bonus stipulation for the lies from my client’s son, and slipped them into my waist pouch. With my ragged clothes, few would guess the bag at my side was worth hundred’s of gold. To the common man, they were known as a Merchant’s Carry-All, but this one was not so expensive or grand. The small bag had been enchanted to protect against moisture more than for the expansion of its inside volume.

Rechecking myself in the mirror, I made sure everything was as it should be. Slightly dirty and outdated clothing, hair desperately flattened and kept confined using a touch of oil but still with flyaway strands and ragged appearing strap shoes. In actuality, the shoes were comfortable and well-heeled, only the outer surface was scuffed and worn. The oiled hair was a new touch. I had added it after I noticed that no matter how ragged the shopkeeps and apprentices appeared below the waist, their appearance above it was cared for.

No Master wanted their apprentice to cost them a sale when standing behind the counter due to their shoddy appearance.

Nodding to myself, I hunched my shoulders and then locked the doors and then left. The blue glow of the magical locks engaging said that the shop was now protected until the next day. The magical locks were mostly an affectation to match the rest of the shops on the street. The real security came from the monthly stipend for ‘protection’ that secured the shop from robbery.

Shuffling my feet along the road, I kept to the sides away from the carriages and wagons. It was only a few streets before I turned and moved along the new path towards the main city road. I stopped in front of a bakery and stared through the large glass window at the young woman handling the front. The glass window, on the right-hand side, with the sun shining down, made a decent mirror to check for anyone following behind. I also took a moment to enjoy the sight of the young lady and her charms. She wasn’t to my personal tastes - I liked a bit more conversation with my curves - she was still a delightful treat to go along with the smell of baked bread.

Playing my self-assigned part, I ducked my head and shuffled up to the counter to get my usual small loaf of bread. This time I splurged and purchased a wedge of cheese to go along with the meal. Partly it was the smile on Sally’s face, and partly it was because of the discounted cost. Most likely, it would go off if left any longer. I guessed that the baker had gotten it cheap while getting his dairy shipment. Shyly, I gave Sally a smile and then ducked my eyes down again and hurried from the bakery. The lack of [Acting] increase annoyed me, but I would eventually get it.

Seeing that no one appeared to be following me, or even interested in one downtrodden apprentice, I continued on my way towards the docks. I was not a fan of this area of town, if you were going to be robbed, this was the most likely place. This was where the client’s office resided, so this was where I went.

To my surprise, Taldenson was overjoyed with his son’s skill increase and didn’t care much about the penalty payment. He promised to send the gold around to the shop the next morning via a carrier, and then he shooed me out of his office. While I bowed and backed away, I made a mental note to pass on this man’s name to the rest of the Skill Trainer’s Guild. He seemed like one of the few that would be a pleasure to continue working with. Though, maybe not his son. On the other hand, I had been stabbing needles into him for hours on end, and that could make anyone testy.

Looping back around, I returned to the trade district, backtracking to pass the shop and turned down through the back alley. The trade district housed most of the skilled trade goods of the city, the exception, of course, being the leatherworkers. The tanner’s vats were relegated to the edge of the poor district. Most of the wooden houses in the trade district butted up against the back of shops and storefronts. The tiny alleys were kept clear by the local gang as part of their protection pay.

Kicking the clinging dirt from my shoes, I made sure to create enough of a ruckus to ensure the other occupant of the house was awake.

“You’ll be making less noise, or I’ll tell your Master! Out all hours, you are, see that I won’t!” Came the loud accented voice of the bottom floor tenant. I owned the house but stayed only on the top floor. The bottom floor was left to the crotchety Mister Carten. I was still not sure how my father had found Mr. Carten, but a better mask couldn’t be found. He was old, hunched, mean, and with a distinct accent. The man was so obviously my ‘Master’ that most would stop once they found him. How many would assume that the old man knew nothing about the Skill Trainers and that the apprentice was the real Master? 'None' was my hope. If old man Carten disappeared one day, I knew that it was time for me to slip away as well.

Nodding while keeping my eyes low, I passed through the front door and up the stairs. I wanted Carten to know when I came and went since he couldn’t help but scream and yell in his accent for all the neighbors to hear. As well as any theoretical stalkers.

Once I was in the attic room, I checked the thin - nearly invisible - line of silk that I hung from the ceiling. As I guessed, the door had been opened, and it hadn’t been rehung as I left it. The old man had been in my room again.

Trap Making has advanced to 22.

Excellent. That had been a slow-going skill. It would have been nice if the skill increase happened the moment the annoying old man opened the door, that way I could know when he did it, but that was just one of many of the weird things about the Status.

The ‘hiding’ place of a loose plank had been disturbed, and at least two copper crowns had been removed from the bag. I disliked losing coin to the drunk, but I was using him to sniff out danger, so it seemed like a small enough cost. Besides, I only stored my shaved and undersized coins there anyway.

Setting the wedge into the door to lock it tight, I turned to the bed in the corner and unscrewed a metal rod from the bottom of the post. The rod inside the bed leg was then slipped into a knothole on a bare wall of the attic. After traveling an inch, the rod pressed on a mechanism that opened a part of the wall, which revealed the ladder downward. After returning the rod to its housing, I cracked the window slightly while making sure to keep the shutters closed and then stepped onto the ladder. Closing the secret door, I descended through the inner wall of the house, being careful to not make any noise as I passed through the ground floor. It wouldn’t do for Carten to complain about rats in the walls. I wouldn’t put it past him to refuse to pay rent for a month because of rats. I wouldn’t enjoy the hassle of dealing with getting him to pay up.

Once I was in the hidden basement, I began my nightly checks. The clay pot in the corner housing my experiment with brewing was still sealed tightly. I had heard rumors of a way to increase the alcohol yield with multiple resting passes, but I considered it unlikely. Still, it only took up a small corner, and it had given me a chance to practice my pottery, so it had been worth it. I hadn’t gained a point from the pot, but it had been a nice change of pace.

The table in the center of the room was clean. In contrast, the floor still had wood shavings lying about. Stuffed into a lopsided barrel next to the pot was a collection of wooden staves, the heads rounded and ready to be turned into walking canes. Mounted in a crude hand-made carpenter’s shaving horse, was a partially worked branch. Stacked next to the seat within easy reach were at least thirty more unworked branches ready to be shaved.

Trying to ignore the work I had yet to finish, I swept the floor and piled the shaving into a barrel to be used in the small furnace in the corner. Connected to the chimney above, the tiny stove was used to keep the basement warm during the winter. The furnace would eventually have to be removed and replaced with another when I planned to work on [Blacksmithing] in the future. I would have to evict old man Carten before then. A drunk he might be, but even he wouldn’t miss the sound of hammering coming from beneath the floor. I figure that sometime next summer, I would have enough to purchase another house, and I could then ensure he would move there. An offer of discounted residence near an alehouse would probably work.

After checking the few long steep recipes I had sitting in my alchemy equipment, I turned to the hated shave horse. I had put off working on my carpentry as long as possible. I knew I needed to keep working on it, but I just detested the repetitive work. Still, it was required to improve, so I would.

Sitting on the benches back, I grabbed the drawknife and slowly ran it along the branch. With well-practiced strokes, I removed long lines of bark while careful to maintain even straight cuts. Focusing on my draw, I kept the knife running along and removing bark while refusing to allow it to dip into the softer wood beneath. Turning the branch, I continued to strip the bark away as I rounded and smoothed the surface. Once the top half of the staff was done, I flipped it in the shaving horse, wedged the wooden clamp closed and began working on the other side.

An hour of work later, I grinned from ear to ear as my hard work finally showed progress.

Woodworking has advanced to 37.

Checking the skill listing I couldn’t help but chortle at the expanded active effect.

Woodworking - Tier 1: 37

Woodworking is the art of cutting, carving, shaping, and fitting wood. From furniture to housing, to tools, woodworking is a vital skill for manufacturing. There are few crafting skills with more wide-ranging effects and related professions.

Passive Effect:

Minor: Read the Grain - Understand the effects of moisture on wood and the way tension forms within wood products.

Lesser: Wood Identification - Quickly identify the species of wood that a product has been made from if you have worked with that species for more than one hundred hours.

Minor: Steady Cut - When wielding a knife, the hand remains steady even under pressure.

Active Trigger Effect:

+15% improved accuracy with knives.

Synergistic with other known bladed skills:

[Small Blades], [Long Blades], [Backstab], [Focused Cut]

Beyond the increase of steady cut from Lesser to Minor, I had also gained one percent more in my accuracy with knives. I wasn’t a fan of weapon skills. I didn’t like to fight or kill things, I was more of a creator than my father. But his training had included plenty of weapon skills, and they, along with resistance skills, were my best seller. Having a few more synergistic combinations could only help my business.