After a pleasant visit to Quel, if a short one, Deli and Frank went to the common hall. Not of the barracks they’d stayed in, but another, where the Auction would be held. Deli didn’t mind trying to chat up some new faces, and Frank wanted to scout the place out. Find out how the whole thing worked before they were in it.

He wasn’t sure what to expect.

The actual process was somewhat chaotic and freeform, from what he gathered sharing a few drinks with other parties. Anyone could bid, but only with tokens or promissory notes, like the one he had. The Scorekeeper would hand out tokens as appropriate, to each party according to their service. They could be handed in to the company for coin or equipment. For some piece of loot, or traded for another note.

A note was a chance for a battle worthy of challenge and progress, but one they could pick and prepare for. The value of each token wasn’t fixed. It was made up of loot gathered from the Reclamation, and either the price they’d get from the Landkarls for clearing the town, or the consolation prize of meeting the contract for sweeping it clear.

From what Frank gathered, there was a sharp divide in those present. Between those who were believers, and thought this Reclamation would succeed when all the other ones failed, and those who felt it would do what every other had: sweep the town, but fail to hold it.

The first type held the tokens in high esteem, while the second saw them as just another kind of coin, one issued by the Reclaimer company.

To Frank, once he knew that to access the “fully reclaimed” price for the tokens, he’d have to stick around for at least two years? It was clear to him that they’d need to spend them by spring. Not something to rush, but not to be hoarded either.

Each promissory note also had a value in tokens that it could be turned in for, but the common wisdom of the room was that it was a foolish thing to do so. At least if a party members wasn’t terribly injured, and the party was unable to otherwise afford healing, or food.

When the Scorekeeper showed up, Frank ignored him like the rest. He’d been warned the man would make his rounds, handing out tokens and setting prices for each note, for the auction. There were other auctions in other towns. Ones where different notes, with more rights, could be bid on and sold. But all of the ones on offer today would be like his: for the right of first challenge. The Reclaimers needed the dead and monsters dealt with soon, before some Demon figured out a way to set them free.

***

Deli came back to his table for the auction itself. They shared it with a five person party that took up most of the rest of it, but left them their corner in peace.

It might have had something to do with Deli throwing one of the pushy men across the stained wooden surface. They laughed it off, and behaved afterwards. And it got her appreciative looks. She wasn’t entirely uninterested in all of them. Frank himself noted a few. Fighters that might be a good match for a third. Mostly among the ones that were looking at her like a fellow warrior, not a strong and attractive woman.

An announcement of some interest to him was made before the Auction: a single axe token could be traded in for healing, today or tomorrow, as part of the preparations for the fights. It would buy the least Blessing of Health, but that wasn’t a small thing. Especially not to Frank.

Health = 25/42

Mana = 4

Another eighteen points would top him off nicely, or help him or Deli recover, after the fight.

But the auction was starting. They had three wooden tokens, with axes on them, when it did. Two for each path cleared, and another for their service in clearing the alleys. For their contribution to the actual fight with the Skeletons in formation, in pushing back the horde of Bones, they’d gotten one with a silver star painted on it. There was no clear exchange rate, but it marked a bigger favour, or reward they could ask for.

The patrols before the descent into the underground didn’t count for the Score. They were covered by another agreement, for pay, lodging and repairs.

The first item of the night? A room with a dagger in it. One binding a Wailing Woman. She’d fight to the death in there, unable to run. Frank had a feeling that, much like auctions back home, they’d keep the best for last.

***

It was somewhat funny. There was a parade of horrors going past on stage, with the Scorekeeper noting every exchange. A party would walk on the raised dais usually meant for a singer, and start speaking of the monster as if it was their prized cow. Talking it up, stirring the crowd, telling everyone how dangerous and good a fight it would make.

Then the bids would start. Thing was, no one forced the party leader to take the highest bid, if such could even be said to apply here. He or she would shout and argue, and Bargain over the details. But the main thing each one of them was looking for, was a good fight. A good match for their party.

Sure, they’d argue about the rest, and who was paying who for the difference. But the fights were the main prizes. Frank got it. It was the same for him.

What use did he have for a fight with a Frost Hound? Those things were made of frozen flesh and had the “breath of the mountain tombs” in them. With multiple dead bound in each one, they were hideously tough and fast. One of the hunter teams had managed to lure one into a trap, and bury it under snow, ice and stone.

Frank had no intention of trudging out there and digging it out. All just to fight a frozen pile of flesh larger than a bear, tougher than an Ice Shade and quicker than a Kit. That could also run away and recover by eating and hunting animals, or digging up buried stashes of frozen flesh it had already hunted.

And track unerringly by scent, as if the rest wasn't enough.

The Greater Dead would kill them both. So why bother? Even if he took it up, everyone would know he’d be a fool to try, and just wait for his time to run out, to buy him out cheap.

Maybe he could start a bidding war between parties powerful enough to face it, but that sounded like a terrible idea too.

So Frank watched, drank his warm milk, and waited. Looking for the perfect fight to come up on stage, or for their turn.

***

Their turn came at about the middle of the auction.

“Shield Guards!” Frank called out as an opening. There were plenty of those.

There was a rumble among the tables.

“Axe Breakers!” Another rumble, this time with Deli joining in beside him by thumping her axestaff on the floor.

“Names great and small!” Frank continued, in his best public relations voice.

“Hear, hear!” the crowed toasted.

“Welcome to the chance of a lifetime!”

There were a few boos from the back, and some laughter. Most wasn’t derisive.

“Oh, you mock, you mock. But when again will you have a chance, no, the opportunity, to face a Bone Golem inside an underground arena!”

That got a few excited shouts.

“With seating already arranged for those brave, or Skilled enough, to watch the performance!”

That got a few cheers as well, along with some loud snorts. Not all of his audience was going along with the show, but that was alright. He didn’t need all of them. Frank had his eyes on three parties in particular. It was good to know who was putting up what on offer, and rumours were good for that. One of them had already refused, but the other two looked interested.

“Who will step up to face this massive dead and put it out of its misery? Who among you would dare face the Bone Golem!!?”

One thing he’d learned from watching other parties present their monsters?

“Over the top? There is no such thing here.”

***

It was somewhat humbling to walk away from that session of Bargaining. Not for the bargain itself, as Frank felt he’d done that well. No, the party he’d sold their right of first challenge to wanted it for one of their members to wrestle the damn thing with his bare arms.

He was close to breaking into Strength five, and needed something that would push him beyond his limits, or an achievement worthy of progress for the Ability.

Frank wished him luck. “I may be going somewhat crazy here. The idea of wrestling that thing for Strength five doesn’t seem all that odd to me. And I’m sure it would have, Before.”

They walked away with a lesser prize. One the party had spared, just as something for the auction and for a party that would be able to progress from it. Since they could deal with it easily, and it was already trapped.

The enemy? A Skeleton and his cohort of Bones. They were stuck at the bottom of an icy slope in the tunnels, where a cold stream flowed over it. And no matter how they scraped and dug at it, they couldn’t get out.

It would have been child’s play for them to take up bows and kill it, even with the makeshift ice walls. Or just go down there to break it.

But it was a good chance for a different party, one just starting out, to duel one. So they let it be. It did come with a warning. The place was covered in Miasma, so more enemies might be hidden down there. But according to the map, it was a shallow dead end. There shouldn’t be many of them.

It was a risk, and not Frank’s first pick. But it did offer a chance to thin their numbers from above with thrown fireballs, before sliding down to finish the job. The fire should hopefully clear some of the Miasma. For the rest, they’d need to hook up some kind of gas mask, or something. Deli in particular. He didn’t want her to catch some disease with Body one.

Frank wanted to duel the Skeleton himself, but it would be a better fit for Deli. He’d take the Miasma exposure for his Body.

He would have preferred to face one of the Wailing Women, to try killing one and get Deli to feel the touch of them for her progress, but this would have to do.

“Well, no. I would have preferred the Spectre.”

A Spectre was just below the Greater Dead. It was one of the dead that had fed on and consumed other dead in spirit. Growing, swelling with power from the act, repeatedly. It also usually drove them mad, and made them explode.

But for the few who survived it, they became a Spectre. They were the Skeleton of ghosts. Fully formed, able to turn solid or to air at will, and only vulnerable to weapons of magic or with spirit. If left alone long enough, a Spectre would grow into a Spectral Knight. A ghostly warrior that carried other, lesser ghosts with him. And they all fought like a unit. Those counted as Greater Dead.

Frank felt that one might actually let him advance Frostfire itself, and progress in that Skill would be very welcome. But the Skeleton party made a better offer, a more practical one.

After all, if tokens could be exchanged for healing? Even if it was only once in a while? That was a quick road to recovery for him.

And nothing would compare to the removal of the Curse, in effect.

So Deli got an exciting fight, worthy of achievement for her. Frank just got healing, and some practice for casting in combat. He still felt like he came ahead in that trade.

Their party had walked away with seven axe tokens. The silver token Frank had traded in, for a little upgrade that should help him deal with the swarm of Bones tomorrow.

“Being back in Medium Armour feels good.”

He felt a bit guilty, spending so much on himself, but it was the right choice for the party. If Deli was only here for the season, it might not be fair.

But she wasn’t. His gain was hers too. Frank felt like he still needed time to adjust to that. Figure out how to accept it, without abusing it.

She didn’t question it, or have any objections. If anything, her mind was already on the fight with the Skeleton. They’d take a swing at it tomorrow. After another evening of experiments. But before that…

A quick visit to the priest, to top off. He was alright, but had enough missing Health to be worth it.

***

Frank had learned a bit more, and gotten more data on mana and magic, last night. One of the nastier surprises was his one attempt to use a single point of Frostfire. It used a point of Health and mote of mana to start. Burned out another two Health, before it stopped.

It also didn’t lower his Curse at all.

It had to be tried, but Frank had expected that to work. To be able to deal with the curse in controlled burns. Hell, at only one point of power, he could handle the pain. But while it took only one mote of mana to trigger, one point of Health did nothing for the curse. Six was the lowest the effect had appeared with.

It might work for five, or four, but he wasn’t about to waste more Health finding out. Alright, he might. Once the end was in sight, not now.

Point was, he’d tried out some of the other spell shapes last night, to get a feel for them. During it, he’d made a couple of observations.

First, regardless of where he was in a breath when he started calling up mana, he had to let it go when that breath ended.

Second, while he could pick any shape, Channeling was under Instinct, not Logic.

Detailed plans, trying to optimise positioning with angles and calculations? They broke his, well, not concentration. They broke his flow. Wasted the mana as it went wild, while making him cough smoke.

It was Instinct. There would be no careful positioning, just eyeballing it. His arc blast probably hadn’t been a full right angle, just close to one.

So he could manipulate and shape a spell, but only up to a point, and in the ways consistent with his casting method.

***

They’d gotten up early, taking a late shift tonight, for guard duty. The morning was for battle.

Health = 39/42

Mana = 8

They were both at 39 Health, which should be enough to get them through it. Frank had also gone out and bought some scarves, for makeshift gas masks against the Miasma. Deli got an actual breathing pouch for hers. The herbs in it were supposed to help.

That was his biggest concern. That the Miasma might just put her on the floor, due to her low Body. Or that she’d catch some disease.

Health wasn’t a perfect shield against diseases, and there were magical ones around too. But most diseases that bypassed Health did it by not being terrible enough to affect it.

Frank had a feeling those weren’t the ones used by Skeletons.

He was looking forward to this. Just the two of them, a Skeleton, and its Bones. All in a narrow passage, trapped together. It should be quite fun, if they don’t get overrun. If they did, he’d drop a few blasts and Deli would get them out of there. Just for this, he got her an ironsole. The kind used by climbers, scouts and hunters to climb glaciers.

She should be able to walk right up the frozen stream.

Part of him still felt a bit uneasy with today. With this. But that was how it was. If he didn’t, if the threat wasn’t real, it wouldn’t count. The whole thing would be as pointless as standing at the top of the descent, and just killing them from afar.

Which was the safe thing to do.

“The things we do for progress.”

“You say something Frank?”

“No. Nothing important, anyway.”

Frank looked her up and down. She was almost skipping to the battle.

“Looking forward to your first duel against the dead?” he asked dryly.

“Yup!” Deli chirped. Chirped. “I’m going to pound that Skeleton into the floor and carve him up like a hare. Nothing will stop me today!” She shouted. At full volume. It echoed.

There was a rumble in the distance, as another avalanche started.

“Oh God.” Frank groaned. “We’re doomed.”

She laughed at him.