After lunch - and dodging Myrin’s questions - Kaldalis had the rest of the afternoon to himself. The three of them had finished their daily dose of town-building quests first thing in the morning, and he’d done his two dungeon runs for the day already. He took a moment to check in on his character sheet as he made his way down to the beach for his usual free time activity of fishing.

Kaldalis, Level 9 Bodyguard

HP: 1739/1739

Aplomb: 100/100

Exp: 1977/2500

Acumen: 177

Clout: 186

Vigor: 300

Armor: 218

Attack: 127

His elemental affinities were all at eighty-nine, except for Wind and Fire at one hundred and twenty-three; he had a charm for Fire affinity - picked up due to the redjackets in the dungeon.

Kaldalis’ newest weapon had Wind affinity on it. It was also a proper spear now rather than a glaive, with a head shaped like a narrow spade, but still long enough for him to make use of the sharp edge of the weapon’s head.

He had a Fortitude charm, too, so his debuff affinities were all up at one hundred and ten.

Kaldalis hadn’t earned any new abilities lately, but he’d been told that when his weapon skill got to fifty he’d be due for something, and that would be unlocked when he got to level ten. For now, though, he was capped at forty-five, both for his spear skill and his fishing skill. Mining and herbalism weren’t capped, since he only used them when quests required it, and he hadn’t even unlocked any of the crafting skills.

His free time was spent staring down the barrel of the fishing quest still floating in the upper right of his vision.

Bane’s Bane

360/10,000 pale perch

He’d gotten hours of fishing done every day for the last three days, and he wasn’t even one-tenth of the way there. That old man had to have a serious reward for this quest because if all he got was a hundred experience and a fistful of crescents he was going to hurl his rod into the ocean and never look back.

The longer he kept running dungeons every day, the more he felt like fishing was a mandatory part of his schedule. Every time he got a group that seemed unwilling (or unable) to improve and adapt to the dungeon mechanics, he felt like it aged him five years.

Sitting quietly on the dock and staring out over the ocean waves brought him a sense of peace and calm that felt necessary to his mental health. Even just feeling the give of the wooden dock under the weight of his boots felt like an escape.

“Well I’ll be,” a voice said from behind him as he cast out his line. “Hey, kid. How’s the fish?”

“I’ll find out in a minute,” Kaldalis said, glancing over to see the old man approaching with his own rod. “I just got here.” But he hesitated for a moment when he saw that the elderly suyon had a glimmering outline around his form, indicating to Kaldalis that the man had a quest to offer. “What’s up?”

“Yeah, I saw you walking out and wanted to ask for your help with something.”

“If you need ten thousand pale perch,” Kaldalis said, “then I’m going to need about two more months. Ten thousand is a much bigger number than I thought it was.”

“I figured you’d be sick of those,” the old man said with a laugh. “Ain’t that anyway. I was hoping for your help with something else.”

“Well, if it’s not pale perch, good luck,” Kaldalis said with a grimace. “I catch them by the dozens, and not much else.”

“No shit. You bait your hook with fish eggs. Literally the thing we hate them for loving. I’ve got something else for you to try.”

Kaldalis reeled in his line with the bait still on it and turned to accept the small jar the old man held out to him. It was full of little pinkish balls that looked like mashed-up meat.

“What are these?”

“Shrimp balls,” the old man said. He paused, and then corrected himself. “Balls made from shrimp. Not the other thing.”

“Alright, so what am I looking for?”

“I need a grouchy cichlid,” the old man said. “They’re hard to target with bait since they’ll eat just about anything, but shrimp is rare in this part of the world. Most of the native shore fish will stick to more familiar fare. I hate to rush you, but I need it in a hurry and I promise I’ll make it worth your time.”

At the side of Kaldalis’s vision, a new quest appeared.

Sweeping the Clouds Away

0/1 grouchy cichlids

“Alright,” Kaldalis said, picking out one of the balls and replacing the bait on his hook. “Oh, and before I forget, I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

“Foturns,” the old man said with another easy laugh. “Though you’re far past the need to introduce yourself now, aren’t you, Kaldalis?”

“Apparently,” Kaldalis said with a matching laugh. “Well, I’m pleased to meet you properly. Give me a minute and I’ll have this fish for you.”

“An ambitious guarantee,” Foturns said with a smirk. “Let’s see if you’ve got the luck to deliver on that.”

Kaldalis put his line in the water with the shrimp ball on it, and waited patiently, watching the afternoon sun glimmer off the ocean. After a few minutes, he pulled in his first fish, something called a woeful wrasse, and while its scales were bright and cheerful colors, once Kaldalis had it in hand, he had to admit that the structure of its face did look quite sorrowful.

It wasn’t what he was after, though, so he replaced the bait and threw out the next cast right away.

After a few more casts - and a few more familiar catches of littoral scorpions - he hooked a big one. This fish put up a huge fight, testing his skills for several minutes, and when its stamina was depleted he had to drop to his knees and reach down into the water to pull the fish out with both hands or else his flimsy wooden rod was going to snap under its weight. It was nearly three feet long, light brown and speckled. Examining it told him it was a wrathful cod, and considering the battle he’d had to reel it in, he was inclined to agree with that identifier.

Just the same, it wasn’t the cichlid, and so the next fish ball went back into the water.

“I thought that was going to be it for a moment,” Foturns said from across the dock. “The grouchy cichlid is a real fighter, though. Probably the hardest thing you can hook here.”

“Bigger than that?” Kaldalis asked as he watched his baited hook hit the water and sink beneath the waves. “I’ll look forward to the challenge then.”

“Sure you will,” Foturns laughed.

After about forty minutes and a dozen other miscellaneous small fish, something different grabbed his line.

It didn’t feel like a bite; it felt like a grab.

The fish nearly ripped the rod from his hands, and he could practically hear boss music interrupting the smooth serenity of the crashing waves.

Kaldalis had thought the wrathful cod was a fight, but this one didn’t just test his skill. It tested the physical limits of his rod.

Almost immediately the rod bent in a full semicircular arc and he was positive that the cheap wooden thing was going to snap under the pressure.

“Shit,” he cursed as he struggled to reel the line in. “Fuck shit fuck. Fuck balls.”

“If I’m not mistaken,” Foturns said conversationally, “that’ll be the grouch we’re looking for.”

“I certainly fucking hope so,” Kaldalis said, gritting his teeth as the fish abruptly changed directions, almost pulling him off the end of the dock. “If what you’re looking for is harder to land than this fucker, you’re gonna have to look for someone else to do your dirty work.”

The fight with the fish went on for nearly ten minutes.

For long portions of it, Kaldalis just had to grip the reel and hold on to not lose ground. So much so that when the line finally relaxed, the fish’s stamina drained, he was still reeling it in for what felt like twenty feet of line.

As he pulled the fish up, he was shocked by how small it was. In total, the grouchy cichlid was only about a foot and a half long. At first he thought it was the wrong fish, but as soon as it was in his hands his quest ticked up and rolled over, the directive changing to handing the fish over to Foturns.

It was dark gray with a few lighter stripes running down its body. A few scales here and there were orange like a goldfish, creating a splotchy pattern across its sides in contrast to the neat and even light and dark grey stripes. It looked vaguely familiar, like it was a variety of fish he should know from real life, but nothing immediately came to mind.

“Smaller than I thought,” Kaldalis said as he caught his breath after the ordeal of catching the grouchy cichlid.

“It’s not the size of the fish in the fight,” Foturns said sagely, “but the relative level of the fish compared to your skill rating.”

Kaldalis snorted at that and handed the fish over to complete his quest.

“Thanks, kid,” the old man said with a smile as he tucked the fish into his creel. “As promised, I do have a reward for you.”

“I’m just happy to help,” Kaldalis said, though he held his hand out just the same.

The old suyon produced a fishing rod, offering it to Kaldalis.

“Really?” Kaldalis asked, surprised. “A rod? That seems generous for just one fish, and not even a big one.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the old man laughed. “Today I’m generous and give you a rod in exchange for a fish. Tomorrow, you use this rod to do something generous for someone else. Catch them a meal, or provide them with potion ingredients. The day after that, the person you help generously saves my life from an Infernal Horde raid using the resources you provided.” He made a broad sweeping gesture that encompassed the encampment. “That’s how the Adventurer’s League operates. We’re all connected. It’s the circle of helpfulness.”

“If you say so,” Kaldalis said, accepting the rod. It was much heavier than the wooden one, apparently made from bamboo. “It just seems too nice a rod to accept.”

“You needed an upgrade sooner or later from that flimsy stick,” Foturns explained. “No way was the quartermaster going to sell you a lure if you were going to lose it the second you put it into the water.” He gestured to the rod. “A rod like this could last you the rest of your career, if you treat it right.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Don’t let it get waterlogged, and only put it away once its dried,” the old man warned, “and if it gets nicked or chipped, make sure you get some varnish on it to seal it up. Other than that, at the rate you’re going you’ll want to upgrade the reel once your skill is around a hundred or so. This one will tide you over a while, and it’ll hold up fine against fish up to level two hundred, but if you overreach your limits it only takes one unexpected catfish to rip the line right out of it.”

“Thanks,” Kaldalis said, making mental note of the care instructions. “I hope I’m not insulting such a fine rod by putting roe back on the hook and using it for pale perch.”

“A fishing rod is meant to be fished with,” Foturns said. “As long as you aren’t mounting it on the wall for decoration, you won’t hurt its feelings.”

Kaldalis thanked the old man again before getting back to making progress on the titanic task of ten thousand fish.