Compromises

The day was running to an end, Errit had been identifying items to the best of his ability, he had only come across six items that he couldn't figure out but it left him with impressions for his improvement. When he closed up shop, he laid on the rug. He was tired, prices for furniture was a little bizarre, sometimes they wanted nothing, sometimes they wanted entire fortunes. It was a strange market, but he had the rug.

With its special quality, whatever it truly was, he was able to refresh himself faster. There were thousands of herbs in his collection, and he wanted to reach level 5 as fast as possible. It would mark his improvement significantly and he would have a gigantic lead on the competition locally.

He started writing, it started slowly but he soon got a rhythm for it. After the first hour, he had done almost thirty and his hand was starting to cramp. He had to find a better way, he started thinking like a comic book character, thinking that it was better than having no direction for his trouble.

'Maybe I can get a magic pen, paintbrush, printer or .. something.' He held out the pen and stared at it.' He set it down and tried something new.

He grabbed the pen with the chains. It was odd, controlling it was difficult. The pen wanted to slip. It fell.

Errit wasn't detoured, he was determined. Grabbing some of the grasses from his trash pile, he wrapped a bunch of them around the pen. It was stable, but awful looking. he grabbed it with the chains again and tried to write with it. It was very crude.

Walking to the backroom, he pulled out a new stack of paper. The paper he usually used for notes and started to write with the Chains. It moved very quickly, but it was too fast and jerked. Occasionally it tore the paper. He was trying his best and thinking hard, 'Why isn't this as easy as tearing things apart?'

He got serious. For the rest of the night until he slept, he did nothing except work on his chainwriting. By the end he had managed to write his name. It was difficult, more difficult than fighting. Errit sweat, his power was drained. He sat on the rug and his energy started to refill much faster. The sweating stopped. "So this is why it was so dirty. Whoever use to own this did all their work on it." It was only a speculation, but it made enough sense.

He started to inspect the rug closely, He had been sleeping on it but he hadn't taken any time to take a good look. The threads were wonderful, its color was deep. Maybe an inch thick, it was warm as he laid on it. Not a heat warm, but an inviting, soothing feeling. Soft, enveloping. He started to check it over thread by thread, appraising it for himself. There were many types of fibers, it wasn't just a hide or a single type of weave. Near a corner, a small cut was present.

It was only a small tear in the rug but it was likely the reason for its abandonment. Errit sighed inside, the rug was already great but to think it was faulty.. he sighed again. There were no markings from its creator's signature or a tag on the rug. It was filled with spellwork and formations. It was spectacular, but for the person who had its commissioned and ultimately abandoned it, the rug was not even worth the trouble of taking along.

He looked at the cut, angry. 'Such a good thing, and its broken.' He hadn't been so upset even when the woman was screaming earlier. He picked it up and set it on the countertop with a glowstone and several lightrods nearby for measure. While going over the loom patterns and the formations he decided it was a better idea to start writing them down, The Rug was one of the items he hadn't been able to identify much at all. He took off the mask.

"Usually this thing helps me a lot." He looked at the mask, fumbled with it and started to appraise it as well.

There were monster eye sockets and banded flesh along its edge, each was different but gave off the feeling of being watched. 'Have I always been this intimidating looking?' Errit wondered what other sorts of issues would have arisen had he chosen to wear the blackout hat more. 'The mask is better, these abilities are too good to pass up.' There was some internal struggle, a conflicting sense of accomplishment but it soon passed. His stomach rumbled.

Eating his dinner, he played with the mask in his hands and stared at the rug. Both of them were handcrafted items, things of immense power, one was broken, the other could break some day. Finishing in a hurry, Errit brought out his notebook and started to jot down a list of things he would have Vae go shopping for.

It was morning, Errit slept on the rug and woke up feeling refreshed, his morning was interrupted by the dozens of people ready to come inside. The summer months were a busy time for any adventurer and free CP and appraisal was certainly a way to enjoy all of the spoils.

"I've gotta figure something out, its just too slow." Errit wanted to work on his chainwriting some more, but it was bothersome to bring them out. Vae kicked her way through the group of adventurers standing outside.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" Vae made her way through the mob and knocked on the door.

'I guess its time.' Errit opened the door and let her in, locking it behind her. "Huh? Are you not opening today?" Vae asked.

"Yeah, we're going to open but I wanted to ask you about your abilities. When were you satisfied with your level of control?" His question was genuine and unfiltered, she could tell that he was having some sort of a crisis.

"Abilities grow, they don't ever really normalize. You just have to accept that one day, you might make a huge mistake. For me, It was joining the rankings. I got ahead of myself, battle isn't fun, people die very easily. I can kill be snapping, but anyone faster than my snap can kill me just as easily. When I joined the ranker ladder at the capital a few years ago, they came after me at my home. People wanted to challenge me constantly, thinking they had something to prove by my death. Being hunted fucking sucks." She wanted to spit but stayed herself.

"Ah. So anonymity matters a lot on this world." Errit spoke without thinking.

"This world? what other worlds could you have been to? Earth?" She laughed it off, suspicious. "Are we going to open or not?" She asked.

"Yeah yeah.. " Errit unlocked the door and moved back behind the counter. "Kinky Appraisal, what brings you here today.

"I have this dragons head, please verify its contents." A large head materialised on the floor, blood spilled onto the wood. It sizzled.

"You bring an acid dragon head into my shop? You're going to pay for your appraisal. In fact, because your stupidity.. Everyone will pay today. Errit walked outside to the line and addressed them, "Hey. This asshole brought acid into my shop and spilled it all over the floor, for the rest of the day, all appraisals are set to 10%. Thank him, and make sure he knows how welcome he is."

Walking back inside, Errit looked at the man and the severed head destroying his floor. "If I appraise this, I want four scales. Those over there, that are clinging to the side, those look good. You decide, you're already going to have to pay someone else.. but you're already in my debt.. so, choose."

"I'd give you the wings if you'd only just shut up and identify my items, where is your master?" The man was piss drunk and rude. "I did say please." He pulled out the wings. "Since we're at odds and I don't want the trouble, here are those wings. Now.. Can you identify the items or should I just go somewhere else?" he tilted his head to the side, it was confusing.

"Fine. Can you write? or do I have to do that for you too?" Errit pushed a pen and paper over then pointed to the sign. 'All material writs will be written by the owner and then checked by Kink.'

"I don't think you can do that. why not just do this for me and let me go back to drinking." The man was ready to go, he looked around and felt like leaving.

Errit stopped him, grabbed the paper and started writing quickly as he looked it over. "Hel Dragon's Head. Three five inch horns on the bridge of its snout, large ear ridges. All teeth in tact, tongue in tact, essence gland in tact. There is no monster core, its been removed. Head is severed three feet past its second vertebae, its a clean cut." he counted the scales that remained. "619 scales, both eyes in tact. No damage to the trophy." After writing the last bit down he stamped it.

"Next time then." Errit stored away the wings before he changed his mind and then the man left.

'Fuck.. my floor!' A hole started to appear, it dripped into the basement.