Chapter 9: The Need for Supplies

On the way back to Inga, Petra asks me “So do you know everyone in town?”

I’m about to make a joke about it, but then I think about it. And yeah, I kind of do. “It’s not a big town,” I say. “And most everyone comes to the inn eventually. It’s the best food in town, and one of the only places to get drinks.”

“Do you know someone I can buy supplies from?”

“Definitely,” I say, already thinking of a few names. “What supplies do you need, and how much money do you have?”

“I have two silver,” she says. “That’s it. And I need everything. A pack. Bedroll. Tent. Trail rations. I basically can’t travel if I can’t survive a night in the wild.”

I stop walking. “And you said you have a piece of steel too?”

She reaches into a pouch at her side and pulls out a handful of small items. “I have three pieces of steel, two silver, eight copper, a piece of flint, and a whetstone.” She shakes her head. “It’s pathetic.”

“Nonsense,” I say. “It’s a start, is what it is.” I smile at her. “We’ll get everything we need. Shouldn’t take long. Your silver should be enough for the pack and the bedroll. You might want some torches too, and maybe a bit of rope.”

She nods. “Yeah, I’ve lost everything. I need all of it. But that’s – wait a minute. What do you want in exchange for your help?” her eyes narrow a bit, and she pulls her shirt - my shirt - a bit tighter around herself.

“Company,” I say, leaning close and giving a conspiratorial whisper. “I want to go adventuring. You clearly could use someone to watch your back. So what I’m offering is simple: I’ll help you get what you need, you take me with you to the dungeon, and inside for one delve.”

“Your level is pretty low,” she says, hedging a bit.

I nod. “It won’t stay that way. And I think I’ve already proven that I can be helpful. I’m just asking to tag along.”

“Nothing else?” she asks.

“Nothing else,” I assure her. “I don’t want part of your take or anything like that. I just want us to party up for one dive. After that, if you want to go our separate ways, I hope we can part as friends.”

She stares at me for a long time, and I feel like she’s using a skill of some sort on me. Maybe she’s using sense intentions. Which is a good idea, actually.

I focus my skill on her, and the impression I get is that it is her intention to go along with the deal, meaning she has no intention to rob me and leave me in a ditch as soon as we’re out of earshot from town.

She seems to get the same read from me, which is good.

“All right,” she says. “How quickly do you think we can get everything together?”

“That depends,” I say. “How much money do you want to have left when we leave?”

***

Inga charged Petra one of her silver for the repair, but I managed to talk her down to eighty copper once I offered the antlers in trade. One of them made the handle of my primary dagger.

I look at my first actual weapons with awe. They look so amazing, though I know deep down that I will probably consider them utter trash within a month of adventuring. For now, they are the greatest things ever.

Battle Axe (common): Base damage = Strength+1-10. Durability: 10/10.

Horn Dagger (uncommon): Base damage = Dexterity/2 or Throwing+1-4. Durability: 20/20.

Throwing knife x5 (common): Base damage: Dexterity/3 or Throwing+1. Durability: 10/10.

The harness doesn’t provide any armor, but my defense is pretty high, I think. It’s higher than the damage I can do with any of my weapons, at least.

Once I’m armed and Petra is back in her armor and looking approvingly at the work Inga did and at my weaponry, we head over to one of the shops I wanted to try. We aren’t looking for the adventurer’s price – usually about double the actual value of an item.

I’m not entirely sure what a bedroll actually is. I assume it’s a sleeping bag, or at least a big enough blanket to wrap around yourself and make you into a human burrito. I know what a waterskin is, and I know what a tent is. I also know it’s good to have a few other tools. I’m planning on bringing a shovel, a wood axe, some pots, and a pillow. Pillows are highly underrated.

The shopkeep, Lizzie, takes one look at Petra and I can almost see her doubling the prices. So I step in front of Petra and give Lizzie a big smile. Lizzie is a few years older than Jenny, so I’ve never known her as anything other than an adult. That, I think, is going to work in my favor.

“Lizzie, wonderful to see you!” I say, giving my broadest and most charming smile. “I want to introduce you to my friend, Sister Petra, a holy warrior.” Petra almost protests, but I give her a look. “Sister Petra here was robbed of all of her traveling gear while protecting a caravan. The one that just left this morning? I think they brought you some of your goods, didn’t they?”

“They did,” Lizzie says. “But I don’t remember anyone saying anything about an attack.”

“Oh, it was a theft,” I say. I gesture at Petra. “As you can plainly see, she still has her weaponry. But while she was patrolling and protecting the caravan, a craven thief snuck in and stole a few of the bags. Not so many as to draw too much attention – I’m not even sure the entire caravan knows about it! – but enough that Petra is now in dire straits for continued travel.”

“That’s terrible,” Lizzie says, and I see that my deception skill and my rhetoric skill are both improving. “And they stole your pack?”

Before Petra can answer, I answer for her. “Her pack and a few other bags. It was a lone thief, absconding with what he could before he was noticed. Pure coincidence that he took her pack. Probably just grabbed whatever he saw.”

“Coward,” Petra spits the word, and I have to wonder if even SHE is believing my lie, or if she is just helping to sell it.

“When I heard that she was so unfairly targeted, I decided to help her out. We’ve been trading all over town to get her equipment replaced, which is why we’re here; no one in town has better bedrolls for better prices than you do.” I have no idea if that’s true. But Lizzie seems to puff up her chest a little bit, so I assume the tactic is working anyway. “All she has left is pocket money, but surely there is something you can do to help her out.”

“You need a bedroll for two?” Lizzie asks, looking back and forth between us.

“No, no,” I assure her. “We just met this morning. She just needs one for herself.”

Lizzie nods. “It’s a shame; I have an extra large bedroll that I don’t know where I can sell. Most people want rolls for one. I’d sell the double-sized one for half the price if I could.”

If it’s just a big blanket, we can cut it in half. If not, having too much blanket is almost never a problem. It’ll be hard to pack and carry, but it’s better than nothing. And cheaper is better.

“I don’t suppose you have some rope as well, so I could tie it together to make a pack?” Petra asks. “That would save me some money until I can get a real pack again.”

“I think I can do that,” Lizzie says. “Would forty copper be a fair price for that, rope and all?”

A bedroll by itself would only cost twenty, but a backpack would be forty on its own. “I thought you said you wanted to get rid of it,” I say. “Surely ten copper would be fair; you said you’d sell it for half price, after all.”

“Half price would be twenty,” Lizzie says. “Plus there’s the rope.”

“I think we both know that twenty would be plenty to include the rope.” I smile and hold out my hand. “Come on, Lizzie. It’s me. Shake my hand. Be my friend.”

She takes my hand with a laugh. My Haggle goes up to 5.