Goodie wasn’t in a rush, but still, he tried to eat as fast as possible so that he could continue talking.

Yet, despite his intention, the man before him had finished his meal minutes earlier and had settled into the same half-sleeping pose that he had when Goodie had first entered the inn. Once he had finished, Goodie placed his knife and fork on his plate and slid it to the side, he then faced the man across from him, ready to get back to business, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Eric threw him off balance by cutting him off with…

“Mirror”

“Huh?” Goodie asked.

“To see around corners; a mirror or a blade.”

“That’s not really seeing around corners, at least not like you would in a game. Plus, how would you hold the mirror while shooting.”

Eric’s left eye cracked open, “You have a gun?”

“Nooo…but magic could be used in its place, couldn’t it?”

The man shrugged his shoulders, “Guess so?”

The sat in silence for a moment; Goodie trying to get his balance back; Eric not giving a shit.

“Resources?” Eric asked as Goodie was about to talk again.

He took a moment to breathe in as he caught on to Eric’s new game.

“What do mean by resources?” he asked politely.

“Earlier you said you lacked the resources to do whatever it is you wanted to do, but I know you’ve got some stuff in that waggon of yours, so what you got?”

Just the food that I’ve bought here, some spare clothes and general supplies…uh…and what the city gave me before we left.

“Being?”

“Leather armour made from…something called a gator-dog; that includes boots and helmet also. Backpack, belt, rope…uh…a steel spear and a non-magical magic lantern.”

“Non-magical? Oh, you mean one of those wisp lanterns…the silver jobs.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not a lot.”

“It kinda is. Especially with the truck-waggon.”

Eric shook his head.

Goodie scowled. It was not that he didn’t believe the man, he was just tired of having every advantage that came his way turn out to be an illusion if not an outright flaw.

“Why?” he asked, not really wanting an answer.

Eric scratched himself under the chin as he thought for a moment, “Yeah…that lantern’s only expensive because wisps are hard to catch, and that light it emits…more likely to make you a target than help you. If you gotta flash it around, don’t do it near me. And that spear’s just no good.”

“I was told it was the most expensive steel spear in the city.”

“Steel’s cheap back in the city, you should know that.”

“I do know that” he replied, trying to keep the edge out of his voice, “but the spear they got me was second only to an enchanted one in terms of quality.”

Eric shook his head…again. Goodie wanted to punch the prick, but he reminded himself that he could not, because aside from not having the strength to do anything, he still needed the guy’s help.

“That’s old-world thinking, without the skills to repair and maintain it, steel will degrade quickly after fighting, especially as some animals have corrosive blood.”

Not knowing what to say, Goodie just sat there as the man continued.

“The armour’s good at least, but the problem’s with where it comes from.”

It was obvious that Eric wanted to be asked, so Goodie sighed as he rolled his eyes and did exactly that, “Where does it come from?”

Eric pointed to himself.

“You specifically, or your group.”

Instead of answering, Eric continued.

“The leather comes from a weird hybrid between an alligator and a dog, hence gator-dog, very good resistance to piercing and cutting, so we have to either get them through the eye or bash their heads in. Magic too, of course. A bitch to kill, which is why we have to go around them; They populate the wild area between the last kingdom and our new town, costing us two and half month’s extra travel time ‘cause we can’t go through ‘em.”

“While that’s certainly a problem, I’m not exactly looking for a fight, So the extra time avoiding them won’t be as troubling for me.”

“The things like to roam and their pack animals, so chances of us encountering them outside that area, while not absolute, are certainly high. And ‘that’ is the problem. Like gators, their jaw strength is insane, strong enough to crush bone. So, if they bite you, your armour might stop their teeth, but it’ll do nothing to stop them from turning your body to pulp. Hell, I’ve seen them crush full plate.”

Goodie felt his innards tighten as Eric’s words conjured themselves in his mind. He could not help but visualise the gore that would result from such an event. Hardly difficult to imagine as he had seen what a group of rats could do to a piece of meat many times.

“Speaking of their teeth…” the man continued, “…razor sharp; they get you somewhere unprotected and they’ll go right through you.”

“Wonderful, anything else?” he asked sarcastically.

“Yes, bandits”

Goodie just closed his eyes. Of course there was more! There was always more!

Mostly locals, but a few of our lot as well. And because of the gator-dogs, they all carry bludgeoning type weapons.

“So, my armour’s practically useless. Wonderful.” He took a moment to breathe in…and out, “Not just my armour, you’re saying everything they gave me is useless?”

No, no, they didn’t screw you over, they just didn’t go out of their way to help you to the best of their ability.

Oddly enough, Goodie did not feel like freaking out. He was not feeling much of anything at all. Numb, Goodie just felt numb inside.

“So I can’t fight?” He said after a while, “…fine. I don’t want to fight. I never have. What I want to do is make money and provide for myself.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you go with the whole shadow thing if you wanted money? [CRAFTSMAN] or one of the Elementalist specialities would have gotten you a lot further.”

Normally he would have been concerned about revealing his personal information, he should have been concerned, but he just couldn’t feel it.

Back home…Earth, I was on the bottom rung of society, socially speaking at least. So I was practically a slave for the most part; subject to the whims of my betters, them being anyone who could bully me. Which was everyone. The only reason most of them left me alone was that they didn’t even notice that I existed. Or cared if they did.

Here, in this world of fantasy, I thought I could have more. A small bit of freedom for myself. A small bit of respect, even if it was only from myself. While I might have been well off with those classes you mentioned, I would still have been a slave to others.

Eric looked at the boy before him, his eyes fully open for once. “But why…whatever you are, specifically? What are you anyway, [WARLOCK OF NOCTURNE], [SHAMAN OF SHADOWS], [DREAMER’S ALLY]…what?”

“[SHAMAN OF SHADOWS]”

Eric waited for him to continue. Goodie laid back against his chair, closed his eyes and began to talk.

“It’s an all-rounder. [WIZARD]’s and their lot might have greater power, but there’s nothing between them and trouble when shit hits the fan. Even if you were to hire bodyguards, you wouldn’t be able to guarantee loyalty without resorting to mind control. And [SUMMONER]’s might have more summons, but without those, they’re as good as dead.”

“Creation as well. You always need a creation skill for production. That’s where the real power is. Stuff. And shadow stuff can sorta make plastic…bio-degradable plastic…and I don’t need to explain how useful that shit is, now do I? Only problem is, at my level, the degradation is too quick, even in sunlight.”

“And with [SACRIFICE] as my cheat, I thought I could become super awesome if I just stuck with it. Her Majesty certainly did…as far as garden snakes are concerned, that is. The thing ain’t useless, but it’s gambling. And what it’s like with gambling, the house always wins.”

“Then why didn’t you pick [ENCHANTER]?”

“Because I didn’t want to become a desiccated husk.” He responded.

“But you could’ve just used whatever you gained from [SACRIFICE] to…well, sacrifice.”

Opening his eyes, Goodie stared at Eric. Then, after an endless moment, he began to laugh. It was not the laugh of someone who was experiencing joy, nor the manic laugh of the insane, not even the diabolical laugh of pure evil. It was just a laugh of someone tired.

Of everything.

Goodie’s brow creased as he thought of something. Wait, why wasn’t that in the library’s book of strategies? The city would not have hidden it, not when they needed all the help that they could get to counter the nobility and their bullshit. Unless it was something political…maybe? He wasn’t sure about that last one, still being new to the game of upper-level arseholery.

He let out a small groan as he remembered that he still had to deal with that crap today. He needed to get his book back from Eric.

He looked at the man across the table, “Why isn’t everyone an enchanter then?”

“Probably ‘cause it doesn’t work.”

Goodie stared at Eric as he waited for him to continue.

“[ENCHANTER]s, like every other class, rely on the skills and abilities they get from levelling. And those skills and abilities rely on their levels.”

“And to have a decent chance of enchanting anything, even the most basic stuff would require high levels. And that would cost them. Not just the time and effort in getting those levels back once they’d been sacrificed, but also in money. Lots of money I’m guessing.”

“They can actually enchant anything ‘with’ anything from level zero, it’s just that if they want that enchantment to last more than a second, they need the levels. Minutes below level ten, hours above it, not including skills and titles. It’s only around level fifty that they get the possibility of making an item that can last more than a year.”

“How high do they need to be to make something permanent?” Goodie asked with genuine curiosity.

“It’s not a question of levels, they need an immortal spark to make a permanent item. And again, they could technically do it at level zero if they were lucky enough.”

“An immortal spark?”

The man gave Goodie a funny look, “It’s like a soul nugget or something. You’d have to ask an enchanter.”

The conversation paused. A shroud of silence fell upon the pair as they looked at each other.

“So, when are you gonna get to it, sir.”

“What?”

“I know my communication skills are lacking, but you don’t get messed around as much as I have without learning to recognise bullshit.”

For once, Eric looked like he had been the one to be thrown off balance.

“You’re doing that thing that adults do, using a stupid joke that no one but they find funny, to try and soften the blow of something serious.”

“And while we’re on the subject, your joke, if it can be called that, might have been meant to be a distraction, but it still hurt; using it to try and cover up something that I’m assuming is a hell of a lot worse, is just cruel.”

Eric rubbed his brow, knocking a few of his raven locks out of his eyes as he did so, his body relaxed as he seemed to surrender to something.

“Nearly a year after I first got here, a man by the name of Donnely used the same joke on me.” He told the boy.

“You’re stalling,” Goodie said, it wasn’t an accusation, just a statement of fact.

“Yeah.” He admitted.

He tapped Goodies little book and sighed, “You have hunting listed in here…” he started, “…you can’t do that.”

“I know I can’t hunt here. But after we leave this region, I want…to…learn…” Goodie trailed off as he spoke.

Eric was still looking at him while gently shaking his head from side to side. A pit started to form within Goodies stomach and he could feel the rise of that old familiar tingle beneath his skin.

“You’re not allowed to hunt anywhere.” Eric looked at him straight in the eyes as he said it. The condescending pity within in the man’s gaze was something that a part of Goodie would hate him for the rest of his life. But those feelings would have to be dealt with later, as the man’s words had hit Goodie like a punch to the gut.

Half his plan revolved around him becoming self-reliant, how could he do that if he wasn’t even allowed to provide for himself? The one ability he could lay claim to was his ability to hunt! Mostly rats…but still! If that was off the board, then he was up shit creek.

Without being asked, Eric explained.

“The ruling parties within the surrounding regions are of the opinion that anything and everything within their territories belongs to them. If you want to hunt, you have to purchase a hunting license first, and then you still have to pay a bounty for anything you hunt. And that’s just for the locals, our lot have to pay an additional foreign tax on top of that…”, he trailed off, then shook his head again as he continued, “It’s just not worth it.”

“Fuck!” Goodie yelled.