Only Mal and I joined Angelica at her table. I deposited the honey mead down in front of her, and we made to sit. She drained the entire goblet, by the time my ass touched down, then stood up herself.

“Are we ready to shop then, gentlemen?”

Mal and I looked at each other in befuddlement. A fresh tankard each in hand. She hadn’t waited for a reply, already leaving the inn.

“Neck it or give them to those two idiots?” Mal said.

“Honestly, with my arm the way it is, and whatever I choose from the store being important to my survival. I’m going to let this drink go.”

“I never thought I’d see the day, Clive!” Mal mocked.

“But…!” I said with a bit of heat. I’m seriously doubting our choice with her.”

“Yeah, hopefully she’ll warm up, but right now, I feel like I’ve asked a bricklayer to cut my hair.”

“I think I know what you mean. Let’s just see how it goes. But I’m keeping an eye on her.” I replied.

Mal nodded and we left the inn, into the street. The sun was surprisingly bright as it may its way to the horizon. Blinding me as I left the dark bar. It took a while to locate Angelica, and it was Mal who pointed her out. She was leaning against a building across the other side of the street, watching us from beneath her hood. But making no effort to attract our attention. We made our way over and as we got within six feet and I was about to say something, she was off walking.

She led us to a shop around eight buildings down the street. It was Mal who spoke first. As we came to a stop. “We already came in here. Unless you know something I don’t, then this place is full of crap.”

“Of course I know something you don’t,” Angelica said leading us through the door.

She strode through the front room, not stopping to look at any of the wares on offer. Making a beeline to the man at the counter, in the back room. He looked up as we approached, and Angelica pulled out the coin she’d used earlier to make the agreement with me. The shop clerk barely acknowledged it, as he hand moved under the counter, and a door slid open behind him. Mal and I were like excited kids, privy to new and amazing secrets. Even Boris was sniffing around with extra enthusiasm as the door opened. Angelica and the shopkeeper were just miserable fuckers, sucking all of the fun out of the experience.

Entering the hidden room, we were faced with an impressive array of weapons and armor. It all looked much better quality than the dross we’d passed on the way in.

“Why the hell is all this hidden away,” Mal said, clearly upset at his choices now. To my surprise, Angelica obliged us with an answer.

“In every town, you will find a shop specifically for members of the Adventurers Guild. You only get access after level twenty. Too many over eager noob adventurers die before they hit level 20. The generally accepted opinion is that we don’t want good quality gear getting dropped all over the place.”

“That’s harsh!” I protested. “Surely the price would be prohibitive for the better-quality gear?” Mal said.

“There’s only so much money about, and while there are some epic and legendary pieces of equipment for sale here and there, it’s unlikely any but the most wealthy can afford it. Uncommon gear doesn’t really cost much more than common, however it always has an attribute. Low grade adventurers will choose the uncommon gear every time, think they’re invincible, stride out into the wilderness and get killed. It happened a lot before the change was brought in. Uncommon Gear was becoming rare, which is ridiculous.”

“I suppose I can see the logic, as twisted as it is, though you see the paradox, right? Like, survivability goes up once you’re allowed to buy better gear,” I noted.

“The higher level the adventurer is at, the more dangerous the quests they tend to take. Anyway, I am not discussing the ethics of the status quo in Falritas, I survive well with things as they are. I only brought you back here because you have nothing at all, and I do actually like to complete my contracts successfully. So let’s increase your survivability,” she said gesturing at the well-stocked room.

“I was thinking knives,” I said happily.

“Good for you.” She replied, completely uninterested in my words. Instead moving over to a rack with a selection of hammers on display. Taking a hammer with a two-foot log handle with a solid spike rather than a claw for pulling nails, she turned and handed it over to me. Once it was in my hands, its details sprang up in my vision.

Fledgling War Hammer of Pitiful Absorption:

Rarity: Uncommon

Damage: Bludgeon - 10

Pierce - 8

Weight: 3lbs

Durability: 96

Uncommon Attribute: Drain one point of health from an opponent on every piercing blow.

Named attribute (Fledgling): + 8 damage on direct hit if thrown.

“Well shit,” I said, hefting the war hammer to test its weight. I felt like I’d be strong enough to wield it well, and I liked the promise of health. I strongly doubted I’d be throwing it anytime soon. Seemed like an excellent way to lose a weapon.

“This is a cool, if violent weapon,” I proclaimed.

“Whaddya mean, mate?” Mal asked.

“It’s got a health regeneration skill that only works when you cause serious damage to your opponent.”

“Fuck, that sounds cool,” Mal said wistfully.

“Yes, it does,” Angelica she said coldly. “Have either of you ever actually fought a demon before, or just been beaten up by them?” She asked sarcastically, like she already knew the answer.

“I killed one. Mal and Boris have killed another. Boris also ripped half an arm off the little bastard who brought us here,” I replied, allowing a hint of pride at our accomplishments to come through.

She looked surprised my proclamation, and wrestled against a quickfire response. Composing her thoughts, she finally retorted.

“Your, dog, did not rip off the demons arm. It’s not physically strong enough to perform such a feat. If the demon lost a section of arm, then it was intentional to protect itself.

What you may have noticed, if you have fought and bested demons, is that they are resistant to slashing, and piercing damage. Bludgeon however is there weakness and by weakness I mean that they aren’t specifically resistant to that kind of damage.”

Mal laughed. “Well, that makes a certain amount of sense. Seems the Sock Rockets were more useful than we realised.”

“Sock Rocket. What is this?” Angelica asked.

“Clive’s insane, yet effective idea,” Mal said pulling a Sock Rocket from his robe. He handed over the bloody item to her.

“A rock in a sock?” She said inspecting it dubiously. Though still started twirling it around in the air. She moved a few feet away from us and smacked a wooden post close by. I was initially offended for on the shop owners behalf, until I realized the post showed many signs of damage, and was in fact a training post for this exact purpose.

“This is a fascinating weapon,” she said handing the sock back to Mal. “The elasticity in the sock lends a surprising amount of additional force. It’s durability is almost gone, but this is something that should be developed further.” “And you managed to kill two demons this way?”

“We sure did,” I said with pride.

“That’s funny, but impressive. Now back to gear. The hammer is two-and-a-half silver. How much do you have available?”

“Three silvers,” Mal answered. “So with that hammer he’s pretty much done.”

“Not quite,” she replied and moved off to another section of racking. This one held all manner of shields.

I wanted some armor. My clothes weren’t going to last too much longer with the way things were going. The hoodie had already been heavily repaired as it was. Still for half a silver - ten bronze, I knew I wouldn’t be getting anything worthwhile in the armor department. I also loved the feel of the hammer, so I wasn’t giving that up.

Angelica picked up a small shield from the table and I mean dinner plate small. Then frisbeed it at me. I tried to catch it with my cursed arm as I was holding the hammer in the other hand. The arm flared in pain and I missed the catch. The shield hit me in the chest.

“For fuck’s sake Angelica,” I complained. “Remember the bit about my left arm being practically useless?”

“It won't be now, with the shield,” was her unapologetic response.

“Thanks so much,” I replied sarcastically, while taking some deep breaths to get the pain back under control.

I scooped the shield up from the floor and looked it over.

Buckler of the Desperate.

Rarity: Uncommon

Damage: Bludgeoning: 3

Defence: 8

Weight: 1.5lbs

Durability: 100

Bludgeoning damage doubled if wearer's health falls below 25%

“I don’t know how I’ll know if my health is that low, and I hope it never does go that low, but damn it Angelica, you got a good eye for gear. I was less than impressed when you picked the buckler up, and the hammer in all honestly. But thank you for your help. This is without doubt the best bronze coin I’ve ever spent.”

“You’re welcome. Shall we pay? If you are satisfied.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Mal protested. “Do you think this guy would buy my shitty gear for some of this stuff?”

“No. Because the owner doesn’t need to buy your shitty gear. And no again, because only Clive can buy from this area of the store.”

“Why only him?” Mal said, unhappily.

“Because he was the one who agreed to the quest contract on my Adventurer’s sigil. That gives him the right.”

“He could buy the gear for me,” Mal protested.

“Perhaps he could if it wasn’t for my first reason,” Angelica kindly pointed out.

“Fine,” Mall huffed. “Come on Boris, let’s wait outside,” he said, leading the patient dog away.

After we bought the weapons, we all headed back to the Inn. She left the moment we entered, clearly having had enough of our company. In all honesty, with her attitude toward us, I’d had enough of her company, too.

It was going to be a long trip to Faray with her and we still hadn’t actually seen what she looked like, with the ever-present hood shrouding her face in shadow.

To my dismay, I found Joel, Daz and the triplets had used the time we’d been gone, to get next level drunk. I groaned and turned to Mal.

“As much as I’d like to join in, I best go and get squared away at the temple of Devotion. The mother apparently has some advice for us. Will you store my weapons for me? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“No problem,” he grinned, taking them from me. I had a sneaking suspicion he’d be just as drunk as the others when I returned.