“If no one has them, then why create the currency?”
Garnedell blinked for a bit at Joe’s question, but then shrugged, “I do not know, sir. They just do not exist.”
Joe considered it for a moment but then dropped it. Garnedell obviously didn’t know and arguing about it solved nothing. Besides, he had another good question to ask. “OK. So each one is worth a thousand of the next. But if I have to pay four or five hundred of one coin… uh of triangle one holes… bronze, right?”
“Yes, bronze.”
“Right. So if I have to pay five hundred bronze; it’s gotta be annoying to count out five hundred bronze!”
“Uh… Why would you count out five hundred bronze bits?”
“Well. Bronze is worth one thousand… um… what’s the next one?”
“Nickel.”
“Right. One thousand nickel. There is nothing else you could use. You need five hundred bronze!”
Garnedell looked at Joe for a bit, some confusion on his face, “Well. You could just count out five great bronze.”
Joe’s eyebrows flickered up. There are more currencies!? “Great bronze?”
Garnedell shook his head, “Haven’t you noticed that there are different sizes to the coins?”
Different sizes? “I thought that was just poor manufacturing.”
“Manufacturing?”
“Ah. Um. It means to make something. I thought the coins were made poorly, so they couldn’t be made all the right size.”
“No, Joe. Each of the coins has three sizes. The smallest size is called a bit; so bronze bit, or iron bit, or gold bit. The middle size is just called that coin; so a bronze, or a nickel, or a gold. The largest size is called a great hmmm; so great nickel, or great platinum. The bit is worth one. The middle coin is worth ten. And the great coin is worth one hundred. So you would just need to count out five great bronze.”
“Oh. Well that makes it a lot easier,” Joe considered as he pulled out his coin purse and flipped through some coinage, pulling the first three sizes of the same currency out of his bag and comparing them. He soon found them to be virtually identical, only smaller or larger. It was quite easy to distinguish them. His curiosity soon overcame him and he dug in his pouch and pulled out a half a dozen bronze bits and began comparing them. He soon began to realize that all of them were virtually identical and shock settled over him in surprise. These things are… almost perfect replicas! How! This is… The conversation came to an end quickly as Joe dove into a new set of questions, wondering at such amazing and identical manufacturing skills. These things are so… they had to have been machined to be so perfect!
“Hey, Garnedell. Do you know how they make these coins?”
Garnedell responded with shock and quickly whispered, “Joe. Please. Quiet. We must not speak of these things!”
“Really? Why?”
“Shhh!”
“Wait for the bedroom?”
Garnedell said nothing, vigorously shaking his head no in a panicked shaking.
Joe was a bit shocked at Garnedell’s response but his obvious and genuine panic quickly sobered Joe and he silenced himself, letting the question go. Security through obfuscation? Joe sighed silently, keeping his response to himself. They continued walking on, Garnedell with some stiff fear, and Joe decided to try another question that hopefully wasn’t as taboo.
“Then, Garnedell. Why are the medium coins just called the names of their level, but when prices are given, they give them in bits and just say the name of the coin? Like, if a merchant sells something, they say: It’s three hundred bronze, please. But it’s actually three hundred bronze bits and really thirty bronze? Three hundred bronze should be three thousand bronze bits, right? Because bronze are worth ten bronze bits… or… well… yeah. It’s just really confusing. Isn’t that weird?”
Garnedell stopped, stunned. He blinked a few times before looking at Joe, “You know, you are right. That is very strange. I do not know. It is just the way it is. When speaking of prices or costs, then we speak in bits, but simply use the name of the currency. But when we speak in bits, middle, and great coins, it is considered ten bits. I do not know.”
“How am I going to be able to tell them apart?”
“It’s not hard. It’s very easy. Do not worry!”
“Says the native speaker,” Joe muttered to himself. He wasn’t surprised as he’d seen this kind of thing countless times before. Languages never followed any logic, even the most logical ones. I hate languages! Joe muttered but quickly settled this annoying fact in mind, making sure to remember it. He really didn’t want to be ripped off later.
They made it back to their inn a short while later and Joe ate the meal quickly. The conversation was ultimately forgettable and Joe soon found himself back in his room and headed for bed. He pulled out a few coins, slipping them through his hands, his thoughts going over the ramifications of identical coinage. He even took the time to compare the various coinage across the currencies and couldn’t find any variation outside of what could be simple wear and tear. The newest coins he could find seemed to be literal copies of each other. But despite his exploration, he could learn little else but extensive questions and he turned to preparing for bed. As he did so, he turned to Garnedell, cautious with his next words.
“Garnedell?”
“Yes, Joe?”
Joe smiled at his remembering to use his name but made no comment on it, “Do you want to… start working on growing your… uh… many jobs?”
Garnedell stopped to look at Joe, and Joe took it that the conversation had turned to a serious tone and stood to face Garnedell himself. Garnedell stared for a bit.
“If… are you willing to share such with me?”
Joe smiled, laughing, “Of course.”
Garnedell’s smile was brilliant and Joe settled in excitedly, “Well… then the first thing we need to do tomorrow is take you to the priest and change you to a commoner job then we can work on opening up the other jobs so that you can enjo…”
Joe trailed off when Garnedell’s face flashed from joy to deadpan, a flicker of shocked despair flashing through for a moment. Joe’s enthusiasm fell and confusion welled up.
“What’s wrong?
Garnedell maintained a blank face but obviously struggled, staring at Joe for a moment. Joe almost opened his mouth to speak again as Garnedell remained silent and struggling to express himself. The moment stretched and Garnedell finally spoke.
“You… do not wish me to be a combatant?”
Joe frowned, “I… don’t care what you want to be? You can if you want?”
Garnedell’s stiff blank face relaxed a bit, and the fear and confusion revealed itself, “Then, why?”
Joe found himself grow confused in turn, “Why what?”
“What do you wish me to be a commoner… a crafter … I… I want to be an adventurer like my parents!” Garnedell’s reply was controlled but quickly shifted into a soft wail when he mentioned his parents.
Joe immediately settled, his confusion resolved and much more comfortable in how to respond when he realized what Garnedell was fearing, “Garnedell… no… no… relax. I don’t want or care what you wish to be. I will help you no matter what. You can be an adventurer if you want.”
“Then… why?” Garnedell’s response was a bit more reserved, but the fearful cry could still be heard behind his stoic resolve.
“Oh… Garnedell… It’s for faster growth, only. Simply take commoner and the other jobs as I did so you may quickly and rapidly grow your learning stat, which will allow you to grow faster, including your adventurer job.”
Garnedell paused at that, but still seemed resistant, “So… I may choose?”
Joe smiled and nodded, “Of course. I’m only trying to help you grow… faster.”
Garnedell thought on it before finally shaking his head, “I thank you, Joe, but I could never turn from my parent’s legacy. I will seek my growth as an adventurer… and hopefully gain my growth through combat and combat jobs.”
Joe listened in, and struggled to keep the frustration from his face, smiling softly with encouragement. It took significant effort to keep his mouth shut and let the conversation end. Joe nodded and smiled.
“OK. Then we will grow your adventurer job.”
Garnedell’s relieved and exuberant smile was all Joe needed to quell his frustration. He nodded and returned to his nightly preparations, internally wrestling with the outcome and struggling to figure out how he could convince the kid while also understanding how he felt. Doesn’t want to give up on his parents and family… got that… but this is the wrong way to go… it really is…doesn’t he understand? But… if I push this… I’m … I’m attacking his family… his dead parents. Joe kept his frustration internal and finally lay down in his bed. He spent quite some time struggling through the issue before finally sighing softly in resignation. Something… for later, I guess. How am I going to … hmm… later… time for sleep.
Exhaustion quickly grew and that, more than anything else, brought his mental exploration of the problem to an end and he turned to his nightly ritual of checking his growth. He checked his stats one last time and his frustration was soon replaced by gloating over the extensive growth of his philosophy job. Three hundred learning! Ha! Thirty base! Haha! While he was quite happy for the boost to his learning the job gave, he was even happier with the amazing boost his new title gave! Maybe I can get my jobs to level twenty in one day from now on! Well, at least my education line jobs, right?
Joe went to bed that night feeling more relaxed than he had in the past half a year. He enjoyed his first true rest, true sleep, on this planet.
Status
Blessings
Current Job
Available Jobs
Current Skills
Available Skills
Log
Joe McConnell
Status
Physical Resistances
Magical Resistances
HP
20.00
Physical:
MP
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
40.00
Piercing
0.00
Attack
20.00
Crushing
0.00
Defense
20.00
Slashing
0.00
Magic
40.00
Magic Defense
40.00
Strength
20.00
Dexterity
20.00
Agility
20.00
Philosopher
20
Speed
20.00
Endurance
20.00
IQ
300.00
Wisdom
300.00
Learning
300.00
Luck
0.00
* * *
Sergeant of the first guard of Lord Grugtrim, Baron of Soonesia, was finding himself becoming increasingly frustrated. His men still found nothing of note in the city’s entry records, the inner city empty of any new renowned adventurers, and the dungeons proved remarkably bare of any great new adventurers. The new adventurers that had been reported had not matched the man they sought as most were not even human and the ones that did match were very poor adventurers, only seeking out the first level of the dungeon.
And today was the last day of his investigation, he would have to leave tomorrow if he wished to return to his lord within the time allotted him. His failure to find anything of significance had pushed him to seek what he could and led to a long night, but try as he did to pore over the entry records one last time in the dim light of the candles, the sergeant had nothing to show his lord when he returned. While he did not fear returning to report failure, his mood was quite grim. Despite his late hour and dogged attempts, he still found the log books empty and hope fraying. His only hope lay in leaving a few men behind in hopes they could find something and return with news shortly after. Tomorrow, he returned to his lord.