I fussed with one of the polished wooden toggles holding my new doublet closed. Once I had it level I looked up. A couple of parasol-toting ladies caught me grinning in their direction. One blushed before hiding behind her fan. The other rolled her eyes, took her friend’s elbow and pulled her down the street. I took a minute to consider the merits of changing to a charisma-focused build but the dazzling evidence of magic permeating the city was ultimately more seductive.

My next errand was only a few doors down where I got a pair of sturdy tan leather boots for ten coppers. They went on my feet along with the Hose. I’d never put stockings on before and expected them to feel weird but they were incredibly comfortable.

After that, I made my way down to the edge of the city. As I walked down a spoke street to the wall I had plenty of time to look out over the hilly scrubland that extended beyond the wall. The only activity I could see was confined to a wide but dusty looking road. A few small caravans picked their way down the road and a couple of larger ones kicked up plumes of dust in their wake.

I found the little inn sitting in the shadow of the wall just where Finnegan said it would be. One street over from the main gate provided it with plenty of foot traffic but kept the worst of the noise at bay. Unfortunately, it was close enough that the street still smelled like horses and the stuff they famously leave behind. The two-story inn was nondescript. Just another timber box crammed onto a street full of them.

Once I pushed past the heavy iron-bound door, I found a quiet little common room. A few people sat at the round tables scattered around the floor enjoying a late breakfast of eggs, fresh-baked bread, sausages, and ale. All the delicious smells were strong enough that they seemed to bully the horse manure into staying outside.

The patrons were dusty and travel-worn for the most part. For once, I was the cleanest one in the room. That earned me a couple of short glances from the patrons and a much longer one from the short balding man behind the bar.

I smiled as I took a seat asking for a plate of sausages and an ale. I didn’t come here for the food but I wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass me by. Besides, it seemed like a good way to break the ice. A few minutes later, I was washing the spiced meat down with the last of my ale. The beer was warm but it filled my belly pleasantly.

I put a fist over my mouth and burped. That caught the owner's attention and he came back to buss my plate. Judging by Finnegan’s description, this squat, wide, smooth-headed, and hairy-armed barkeep must be his old friend Tarron.

“I’m glad I took Finnegan’s recommendation. That was the best breakfast I’ve had in months!”

“I thought I recognised his style on your clothes. How’s the old coot doing these days?” Tarron asked as he leaned against the bar.

“He’s fine, as far as I can tell. Just met him today. In fact, he said that you and I might benefit from a meeting.”

“Is that so?” The barman leaned back, crossed his hairy arms and gave me a quick look up and down.

“Yup! I just so happen to have some rare ingredients in stock and I’m looking for someone who would know what to do with them. Judging by the ale and sausages, you know your way around a kitchen.”

The barman sniffed at that.

“I ought to after forty years. I also know that I’m not fond of change. Why should I change my menu and my routine for some stranger in fancy clothes?”

I shook my head

“You wouldn’t be changing them for me. I don’t think anyone else in the city has ingredients like mine. If we make a deal here, you could be the one with unique dishes to draw in more customers. If you don’t like the sound of that I can go try someone else but I thought I would start with Finnegan's acquaintance.”

I didn’t really need to sell my fruit to this particular innkeeper so I got up, dropped a few coppers on the bar to pay for the meal and started for the door.

“Hold it, sonny! I didn’t mean to give you the impression that I wasn’t interested. Why don’t we take a look at your merchandise before coming to a hasty decision?”

I turned back to the man with a broad smile.

“Tell me, When was the last time you had fresh Mangoes?”

I took one of each fruit out of my inventory and laid them out in a line on his bar. Once he managed to close his Jaw and wipe the drool from his chin we cut into one of the mangoes to sample it. After so long without sugar, the fruit made my gums ache. The barkeep made embarrassing moaning noises and we made a deal on the spot.

I sold each fruit for between four and six coppers. That wasn’t a ton but I had dozens of the fruits so I netted another couple of silvers from the deal. We parted on friendly terms and I promised to stop by next time I was in town with more fruit. Tarron insisted that I try some of his puff pastries stuffed with spiced mutton, peas, and carrots that just came out of the oven. After devouring one of the steaming meat pies I paid him 2 coppers each for a dozen more of the snacks and stashed them in my inventory.

Tarron let me use his privy and then I continued with my errands. A glance at the clock-tower showed that I was running low on time so I picked up the pace despite all the meat and beer sloshing around in my belly.

My very next stop was at a booksellers. It was a small shop with few wares. A couple of gilded works sat in glass display cases but the majority was bound with cloth and string. Not leather and buckles like I expected. Gertrude, an old flame of Finnegan’s sat in the only sunny corner with her nose in a book when I entered. I had to clear my throat a few times to get her attention.

“Oh, yes? Feel free to browse and let me know if anything takes your fancy.” She said in a quavery voice before returning to her book.” Unlike Finnegan, her glasses made her eyes look comically small through the lenses.

“Actually, that might be a little difficult,” I admitted. Gertrude put down her book with a sigh.

“Why is that?” Her glare showed that she was much more interested in getting back to her book than helping customers.

“Because I can’t read.”

Gertrude turned her eyes skyward

“Gods save me from imbeciles.” She muttered.

“I would like to learn, that’s why I’m here.” I tried to save some face.

“What does this look like? An academy? Shoo, this is a place for books and quiet contemplation, not endless questions!”

She wrapped her shawl more tightly around her neck before struggling to her feet. Then she flapped her arms at me, trying to get me out of her life.

“Don’t you have anything like a primer? Something kids might use to learn to read?”

I asked as I backed away from the angry old lady. She started screeching about annoying questions and telling me to go to that witch Harriet’s shop if all I wanted was simple instruction. When I stumbled back out onto the street the locals gave knowing looks, some were sympathetic, others were mirthful. One knew about Harriet and pointed me to a much larger and better-appointed bookstore.

The ‘witch’ turned out to be pretty and young compared to Gertrude. She was professional and courteous and helped me purchase a primer for the “Navarosii” language as well as a basic guide to adventuring, a couple leaves of paper, a quill, and a bottle of ink. The books were expensive and I left the shop one silver poorer but I knew they were a worthwhile investment.

After that, I found the music shop Finnegan recommended. The counter was manned by a bubbly girl named Amanda. Her affable nature and glowing smile captivated me. I was sure there was some ability at work here or maybe just high charisma. Either way, I wasn’t upset in the least when I found that all the instruments were well out of my price range. I decided to at least get new strings for my violin but when I pulled it out, Amanda snatched it from me.

“What have you done to this poor violin!” She demanded as her eyes cut into me like daggers.

“Nothing!” I was suddenly on the defensive “I found it like that, I promise!”

Amanda gave me a disbelieving glare before turning to the instrument in her arms and cooing softly to it. She took out sandpaper, oil, and varnish before administering them to the fiddle like it was a bird with a broken wing. When she was done, she was hesitant to give it back, looking at me like I was some sort of villain. Eventually, she handed over the sanded, polished, and restrung violin. It looked like a completely different instrument and the notification that popped up seemed to agree.

---

Refurbished Violin

+2 DEX

---

I happily handed over thirty copper for the treatment and strings. My obvious glee at the transformation seemed to mollify Amanda a bit. She still admonished me to take care of it properly from now on.

Before I left, I asked where I could find some sheet music. When Amanda asked what that was, suspicion in her voice, I explained what I knew about musical notation. She grew more and more interested as I spoke. Apparently most music was passed down directly from master to apprentice and then memorized, like an oral history. There was little need for expensive papers which could be easily damaged or lost.

It wouldn’t have been possible before I got my Perfect Pitch ability but after I managed to draw the few bars spelling out the “Song of Storms”, she agreed to help me translate a few of the local favorite tunes into my silly and novel notation system.

While having unique music is all well and good, there’s no beating the nostalgia of an old favorite. Try playing Piano Man in a crowded bar some night and you’ll see what I mean. I needed to start learning new songs to supplement my anemic selection of music anyways. Songs like Silent Night and The State Farm Jingle could only get me so far after all. I was sure the crew would appreciate some more variety too.

With less than an hour left till departure I practically jogged to my last stop of the day. “Earnest’s Enchantments” sat on a street lined with more than the average number of glowing magical signboards. The shop itself was a cacophony of clashing auras. I found Earnest in the multicolored haze.

Unlike most of Finnegan’s recommendations, this one was young, almost to the point of being precocious. The kid bounced around his shop with manic energy, doing things I couldn’t begin to guess the significance of to a bizarre variety of magical items. Small burns dotted his smock and he kept his hair secure under a simple cap.

I originally planned on selling the few silver rings I had gotten from the soldiers to a jeweler in the city but after making so much more money than expected this morning I shifted my plans. I had two of the rings enchanted. One of them now held the popular mana regeneration enchantment. The other granted me yet another Charisma point.

---

Silver Ring

+1 Mana / Minute

---

Silver Ring

+1 CHA

---

According to Earnest, each point of Attunement increased mana regeneration by about one point every five minutes. That only applied to people like me without an Affinity. Mana regeneration rings were a common crutch for mages to use before they gain one. It was basically his bread & butter enchantment.

I would have liked to enchant all three of my rings but one of them turned out to be pewter with silver paint and wouldn’t hold an enchantment for more than a few hours before failing catastrophically. Like, goodbye finger catastrophically. He assured me that silver had a very stable enchanting coefficient and would, at worst, lose its charge. It definitely wouldn’t explode or anything.

I would have loved to stay and learn more from the chatty prodigy but I had a contract to keep.