Marksi hadn’t really noticed much when Brin spent the first day at home. He’d probably just figured that Brin was taking a well-deserved lazy day. But after two days of not moving much, Marksi had started to panic. He kept tugging on Hogg’s clothes, like he was begging the older man to fix Brin. He kept fetching things that he thought would cheer Brin up. A glass bell, a bit of fruit, a dead rat. Brin had complimented Marksi on the kill and had the hardest time ever figuring out who to give the bell back to.
On the morning of the third day, Brin had had enough. He worked out with Davi, and then went to Ademir’s shop at the usual time. Marksi had been so excited that Brin made him wait outside because he couldn’t stop running around.
Ademir was in the other half of his workshop, and the ovens for glass were cold and quiet. Away from the glassworks, Ademir’s shop was a smorgasbord of all his other projects. Half-finished wooden sculptures, contraptions of gears and wheels, but most of all toys. There were cloth dolls, rows of tin soldiers, and wooden rocking horses, all painted prettily, true works of art well above the cheap plastic crap Brin played with as a kid. Hammon’s Bog didn’t have a [Toymaker], and actually, Brin didn’t know if that was a real Class, but Ademir filled the role admirably. Not that he sold many toys; he just seemed to like making them.
"Oh, Brin! I didn't think I'd see you today," he said, looking up from some kind of tube with complicated gears and little tin wires so fine they were nearly translucent. "I only get a certain amount of sand per week, so I thought I'd save it all for when you got back."
"That's very thoughtful of you, thank you. And you were right, I'm not ready to come back to work. Even being this close to glass is liable to trigger some memories. They can be pretty intense, and I have way more than I thought I would."
A glimmer of interest entered the [Crafter’s] and his shoulders tensed, but his tone was casual. "Oh? Anything that could help us here?"
"Maybe. Probably. Is there any chance [Crafter] evolves from [Tinker]?" asked Brin.
"I earned [Crafter] from making lateral moves between three different Common crafting Classes. [Tinker] was one, so I still have the base Skills," said Ademir.
"Oh good, then maybe you'll be able to do it. I saw an oven where melted glass was poured onto a bed of molten tin. I think because they won't mix. Then they let the oven cool gradually until the glass hardens but the tin stays molten. It makes windows that are perfeclty flat without bubbles."
Ademir's eyes widened. "Do you think you could recreate it? Could you draw it?"
"It was in a big factory in a city, and I think lots of Skills were coming together to make it work," said Brin. In truth, the glass ovens he saw in a late night how-it's-made-type show were a dozen yards long, optimized for mass production. "The concept is sound, though. Maybe we could make something smaller here."
Ademir put his hand on his chin. "Hm. Yes, I see..." He immediately pulled a sketchpad out of a drawer and started drawing furiously.
"So, I actually came here for something else," said Brin.
"Hm?" Ademir didn’t look up from his drawing.
"I was wondering if you could tell me where you get the silica sand."
Ademir didn't answer until Brin repeated the question three more times. "What? Oh, you'll want to talk to Gudio, the [Rock Crusher]."
"[Rock Crusher]? That sounds awesome! Wait, is [Rocker] a Class?" said Brin, but Ademir didn't answer. He was busily writing notes around his quick sketch. “Right. I’ll leave you to it.”
There was a [Rock Crusher]. From the sound of things, this ‘Gudio’ didn’t just break rock, but could actually transform it in the process. But where did he get the rock? If there was one thing that Hammon’s Bog simply didn’t have, it was rocks. There was nothing but soft, loamy soil for miles in every direction. If you wanted to find stone, you’d have to dig for it. If you wanted to dig, you should ask a [Digger].
All of these dots were forming a very obvious line, but he felt like he should do this in the correct order. No use in skipping to the end.
First, he needed to talk to the [Laundress].
Even aside from the washing soda thing, he did actually have a good reason to talk to this lady. Brin’s clothes were all made by Perris, and frankly, they were fabulous. He favored a light hooded coat, with a terrific golden dragon embossed on the back. Marksi still liked to hang out in the hood. The clothes were nice, but cleaning them was a pain. Back when they’d lived in the forest, Brin had taken to wiping them down with a wet rag, but now that they were in town, they left all their dirty clothes in a bin by the door at night, and a day later they’d be returned, neatly folded and perfectly clean.
This [Laundress] had probably been doing his laundry the whole time. Or were there more [Laundresses] in town? There had to be; there was no way Hogg would let a [Witch] clean his clothes. Unless she wasn’t a [Witch]? That was what Brin was here to find out.
When he approached Balbi’s place, Marksi began to look decidedly uncomfortable. He peeked his head out of Brin’s hood to sniff the air, and then leaned away from the door they were heading to.
Brin stopped. “Is it bad in there?”
Marksi tapped his tail for ‘Yes’.
“Is it bad in the way that Gustaff’s house was?”
‘No.’
“I need to go in. You can wait out here if you want,” said Brin.
Marksi twitched in irritation, then scampered over to a nearby house, and half-slithered up the side, to disappear on the roof. The little dude was getting fairly independent lately.
Brin took a deep breath and opened the door to the [Laundress] shop. The first impression was a wave of damp, warm, soapy air. The workshop was dominated by three huge wooden barrels. They looked like giant butter churns, with a big rod sticking up from the middle. The rods rose up and down as if under their own power, and he heard the sound of sloshing fabric. These were gigantic washing machines.
Balbi sat on a desk, uncaring about whether or not the sheets of paper with charcoal writing would stain her dress. She sat casually, eating a raw mato with one hand.
Her hair was the curly brown hair that was usual here. Bog Standard, but she wore it up and frizzy, almost like a lion’s mane. He used [Inspect].
Name Balbi Redthumb Level 29 Class Laundress Description Balbi is using [Hide Status] to conceal her age. Skills [Wash] - Improves the ability to wash clothing
[Manipulate Clothing] - Grow, shrink, or do minor repairs on clothing. Moves clothing at higher levels.
“Oh. You,” said Balbi. She hopped down from the desk and tossed the mato to the floor behind her, and wiped the dark purple juices off her mouth with the sleeve of her dress. A pristine cream dress, unstained by the charcoal or the mato juices. [Laundress]. Of course.
“Hello,” said Brin. “You a [Laundress], huh? I have to say, these washing machines are pretty impressive.”
“No they aren’t. They’re big barrels. They don’t do anything,” said Balbi.
So it was her Skills doing all the work.
He glanced behind himself, and the wall near the door was lined with hooks holding clothing of all makes and colors. [Laundresses] in this town delivered clothes back themselves after they washed them, so what were all the clothes on hooks? Come to think of it, [Laundress] was one of the Classes that did allow telekinesis. The clothes near the door were probably for self-defense. Pretty paranoid for a [Laundress], but the bare minimum for a [Witch].
“I guess I was wondering. Are you the [Laundress] who does my clothes? I know Hogg hires someone but I never thought to ask–”
“No,” said Balbi. She stood awkwardly, staring at him full on with a frown on her face and her arms hanging at her side.
He picked at his sleeves. “I have the toughest time cleaning this leather. What would you recommend?”
“Give it to a [Laundress] to wash,” said Balbi.
“What if I’m on the road?”
She shrugged.
Brin folded his arms. He was nearly fourteen, but still not quite as tall as her, but he could still do a good scowl. At his age it probably came off as childish petulance rather than intimidating, but that was fine too.
He held still and met her eyes, and waited. And waited. And waited.
She sighed. “Look, it was nothing against you, ok? I just didn’t think she did anything wrong. Maybe if you still had an evil Class that would be one thing. But you’d already gotten free of it. The absence of a victim is the absence of a crime.”
“Would you say that if you found out a man had been beating his wife for years? Your current bruises have healed, so there isn’t a crime.”
“She saved the town. She saved your life. She pushed you to evil, but it’s a path you wanted to walk on. What did she do wrong?” Balbi asked.
"The cruelty was unnecessary. I don't see the benefit of the rumors or the insults or the isolation," said Brin. "She called me a pre-[Witch]."
Balbi grimaced, then visibly schooled her features. "If you're wanting an apology, you won't get it. Why would you want it now that it wouldn't mean anything at all?"
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Brin shrugged. "You're right."
He turned to go, then stopped, as if he'd just remembered something. “I went through a small town, once, and there wasn’t a dedicated [Laundress]. They used this powder to wash their clothes, it was fizzy and white.”
“I don’t use soaps. Don’t need them,” said Balbi.
“But do you know where I can get some? This ‘washing soda’, I mean?”
“Gudio can make it. If that’s everything?”
“Sure, sure,” said Brin.
She turned her back to him, hands on hips and staring at the ground.
He turned to leave as well.
In front of the door, he snarled and quickly brought out his knife, with a jerky, violent motion. In the corner of his eye, a shirtsleeve twitched. Just as quickly, he used the knife to trim a hangnail and put it back. He made sure to pocket the fingernail piece as well. Litter could be seen as a breach of hospitality.
He very carefully didn’t look at the suit of clothing that had twitched. He didn’t want to give away the fact that he’d noticed. He left the building, and didn’t smile until he was a block away.
A [Laundress] could control clothing, sure, but she didn’t have eyes in the back of her head. That shirt had twitched in alarm at seeing Brin take out a knife. The set of clothing was a familiar–he’d bet on it.
He risked one look back through the storefront window, and used [Inspect].
Name Balbi Redthumb Level 36 Age 45 Class Witch Description Balbi evolved [Laundress] into [Witch] at level 29. Her familiar is a living, thinking set of clothing. Skills [Wash] - Improves the ability to wash clothing[Manipulate Clothing] - Grow, shrink, or do minor repairs on clothing. Moves clothing at higher levels.
Alert! [Inspect] leveled up 14 -> 17
Brin waited until he was two blocks away to cheer. “Yes!”
Marksi jumped off a nearby roof and landed on Brin’s shoulders, nearly knocking him off his feet. He hugged the little dragon. Marksi couldn't know what he was so happy about, but he got caught up in the enthusiasm anyway, and scampered around Brin, squeaking happily.
This was quite the successful day, and it was still pretty early in the morning.
“Alright, let’s find the next place. I have two more stops today,” said Brin.
The next place was the [Rock Crusher’s] shop. He was able to get directions from the first person he asked, and in no time at all, he was standing on the doorstep of the [Rock Crusher’s] shop.
Inside, the room was mostly empty and completely covered in dust. White dust covered everything; it was built up in piles in the corners and even covered the large and muscled man sitting at a writing desk. Other than that, the main feature of the room was an enormous mallet and circle of stone built on the floor. A smashing pad, he guessed.
[Inspect] told Brin that the big man was Gudio Rucho, a level 30 [Rock Crusher].
Gudio was writing in an enormous tome, a book nearly three feet wide and one foot tall, full of thick pages and covered in dust like the man and rest of the room.
It didn’t give Brin the impression that Gudio was dirty, per se, just that he’d accepted the dust as a fact of life.
Gudio looked up at Brin and held up a hand. “I’ll tell you what I tell everyone. I only get fifteen pounds of rock per day. All fifteen of those pounds are spoken for, and the whole mess is mediated by the Council. If you want a portion, you have to talk to them.”
“That’s fine. I guess I’m more interested in if you can even make what I’m thinking of. I need washing powder and chalk dust.”
Gudio turned his book around, and flipped to a page. “Chalk dust.”
The page had four different varieties, with a brief description under each. Brin pointed to the kind that he thought would be closest to the pure Calcium Carbonate he needed.
Gudio nodded and then flipped to another page. He pointed. “Washing powder.”
There was only one choice on that page. Brin nodded.
“I can make it,” said Gudio.
“How does that work, exactly?”
“I crush rocks, but what I crush them into exactly, can be controlled somewhat." Gudio looked like a thug, with his bulging muscles and dusty clothes, but his voice was soft, with scholarly inflection. "I get better the more rocks I crush, but that’s no good for a place like Hammon’s Bog. There’s supposed to be a [Digger] providing me with all the rocks I could ever want, but he won’t. Fifteen pounds of rock a day; that’s all Neptune will give me. Lazy git. The Council is trying to talk him into doing more, but they also need him for irrigation, latrines, clean wells, stuff like that. [Earthmovers] just won’t cut it sometimes. I told him he doesn’t need to go get it for me. I’d be more than happy to haul it up myself, but he says no. The Council says the hole belongs to Neptune and he can decide who uses it.”
“Why do you need him? Anyone can dig a hole,” said Brin.
“Start digging then, see what happens. Let me give you a hint. Your hole will start filling up with water at five feet deep. The bedrock is fifty yards beneath us. You do the math. You need a [Digger] to make a hole that doesn’t immediately fill up with water. I’ve been working with the [Weller] to try and get something, but it’s slow going. If things don’t change soon, though, I’m out of this town. Assuming any of us can get out.”
“If I can get the rock, would you make the stuff for me?”
“If you can get me rock, I will kiss you straight on the mouth,” said Gudio. “I won’t work for free, though.”
Brin smiled. “I wouldn’t ask you to. Alright, I’ll talk to Neptune. Maybe piles and piles of Hogg’s gold will change his mind.”
Gudio laughed. “Worth a shot.”
Neptune had a house in town, but he wasn't there, and Brin was soon directed to the "hole" outside the city gates.
When Brin reached the gates, a [Hunter] in the watch tower called down to him.
"Wait!"
Brin stopped.
"What's your business?"
"Are you saying I can't go out?" Brin asked.
"Not without stating your business. Prefit's orders," said the [Hunter].
"I want to visit the hole," said Brin.
"You won't go into the forest?"
"No."
"We're ordered to shoot anyone trying to enter the forest unescorted. It won't come to that with you, Brin, I'll just hop down and haul you back. But save us both the aggravation, yeah?"
"Sure thing," said Brin. "I'm really not, though. I don't have any reason to risk my life for child-achievements any more, so I'm taking things slow. I just want to see if I can get Neptune to provide more stone so I can make more glass."
"Well best of luck, then. You won't be the first to try, but you have a habit of breaking this type of thing wide open, don't you?"
Brin laughed. "I guess so."
The [Digger] had a little shack near the town walls. The back of the shack led to a big fenced off area, with wooden slats ten feet in the air. Apparently, Neptune didn't even want people looking at his cave.
When Brin stood on the stove Doorstep, Marksi started shivering. He chirped, hopped down, and tried to pull Brin away.
Somehow, Brin had been expecting this. “Fine. You can leave again. But you know the drill. Does this place feel bad in the same way that Gustaff’s house felt bad?”
Marksi twitched his tail.
‘Yes’.
Brin would've turned around right there, but noticed a black-clad figure standing back near the town gates. Hogg was tailing him.
If Hogg was nearby, he couldn’t be in that much danger.
He approached the door, and knocked.
An eyeslit opened, like one of those square openings that a speakeasy would have. Behind it, two dull eyes stuck out of a dirty face.
Brin used [Inspect], but it didn’t tell him much. Name Neptune Banace Level 21 Age 24 Class Digger
“I was wondering if I could buy rocks from you,” said Brin.
“No,” said Neptune, and the eyeslit slammed shut.
He was about to knock again, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Hogg was there, shaking his head.
"Wha–"
"Not here." Hogg turned and walked away, with his usual quick pace. No, he was walking even faster.
Brin practically ran home, head swimming, burning with unanswered questions, but he dutifully waited until he and Hogg were safe in the enchanted circle in the cellar.
“First off, Balbi is a [Witch],” said Brin.
Hogg dropped a small sack of gold at Brin’s feet.
“So what’s going on with Neptune?” asked Brin. “You stopped me from investigating, so I feel like I deserve a freebie.”
“Sure, and it’s just what you’re thinking." Hogg leaned back, a sparkle in his eye.
"And what am I thinking exactly?"
Hogg smirked. "I’m not an idiot, you know. Your Class avatars gave you a clue that was as obvious as the sun. I figured you deserved the chance to figure it out on your own, but I didn’t want to waste any time, either. I found out right away. Me, the Prefit, and the coven have already talked about how to address it. Now that you've figured it out, we can finally let you in.”
"I guess my first question was how no one noticed before now."
"Neptune was a lazy, paranoid, reticent loner even before he died."
“Then he’s really…?”
“Yeah. Neptune Banace is a corpse-eating undead.”