Inside the recruiting office, Peter discovered a large waiting room full of people. There were two doors on the far wall, one labelled “Appeals” and the other labelled “Employment.” Presumably, people were waiting to enter the doors, but with no clear line present, he resigned himself to scanning the room for someone of similar Renown so that he could ask how the queuing system operated. Hopefully, they’d react as positively as the guard had out on the street.

It didn’t take long to realize his approach wouldn’t work. Not because everyone was above his Renown, but because everyone was below it. What’s more, almost everyone he looked at was singl’d. Where they came from, he had no idea, but every person there looked…tired. Worn down. Some of them were shaking, and one or two were even visibly wounded.

This is an employment agency?

Regardless of the state of the other applicants, Peter still needed to ask someone what was going on, so he turned to the Level 9 woman standing next to him. “Excuse me? If someone is looking for employment, how do they know when it’s their turn?”

“You’ll know it’s your turn because someone will bloody well say so,” the woman snapped. She turned to look at him, and all the colour drained from her face. “I’m sorry, sir! I just assumed…Oh, please don’t tell them I was rude to you,” she pleaded.

Peter was taken aback. “Of course not. I just didn’t know how this all works.”

She seemed confused by the question. “But…you’re not a singl’d. You can just walk right in.”

“Really?” he said, glancing over at the doors. “Okay then. Thanks for the help.” He shook his head as he walked to the “Employment” door. Palmyre was a strange place.

Stepping through the door, Peter walked into a relatively small room, maybe 5 metres long by 3 metres wide, with a solitary desk on the far wall facing the room. Above the desk was a large bas-relief seal showing a set of scales that left no question about which Family controlled the place. Beneath it sat a narrow-boned and well-dressed man with hard features. He was scribbling idly on a piece of paper as he interrogated the applicant in front of him. He had the look of a man at the end of a long, frustrating workday despite it only being mid-morning.

There was one other person in line, but as soon as Peter closed the door, the man behind the desk snapped his gaze over to Peter in annoyance.

“For the last time, do not come in here uninvited!” the man shouted. He glared at Peter, but when he made eye contact, his demeanour changed immediately, going so far as to give him an exhausted nod and a wave that bordered on politeness. “Ah, not a detestable singl’d then. What a pleasant change. Go ahead, get in line.”

Peter barely heard him, trying as he was to process the notifications he’d received upon inspecting the man.

New Trait Acquired: DEDUCTION

You are smart enough to pick up on subtle cues about the people you meet, deducing details about their species by extrapolating from your current knowledge.

Requirements: Intelligence score of 20 or greater.

Benefit: When inspecting people of a species you haven’t encountered or whose appearance can easily be confused for another, you will notice the subtle differences that set them apart. NOTE: Does not overcome deliberate attempts at deception.

The Trait had a lot of potential, but it was nowhere near as interesting as the results of his inspection:

Name: Unknown

Species: Unconfirmed (non-human humanoid)

Renown: Level 29 (class unknown)

Base Stat Average: 25.1

If it weren’t for that new Deduction Trait, he would have sworn the guy in front of him was human. With the confirmation he’d gotten from his inspection, though, it was clear why something about him felt off. You could sense it from across the room. And those base stats? Whoever this guy was, Peter did not want to get on his bad side.

“Line?” the official said, pointing to the other man waiting in front of his desk.

“Oh, right. Sorry,” Peter said. He headed forward and took his spot in the line, paying close attention to the conversation between the official and the other applicants in hopes of picking up on any Arenian customs he might run afoul of through ignorance.

“Skills?” the official said to the meek man at his desk. The man clutched his pantlegs, looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“I have Masonry, sir,” the man said. “And 17 Charisma. I’d love to be a shopkeeper.”

“Of course you would,” the official said, rolling his eyes. “That’s what everyone says. ‘I’m a charming bastard; please don’t make me do manual labour.’ Well, let’s see what you’re really on about. Show us the Skills.”

He pointed to a magical device in front of him that looked somewhat like a kitchen scale, beside which sat a sheet of parchment displaying a long list of Skill names.

The meek man hesitated. “Will it…see, I don’t want to show all of my—”

“Oh, for gods’ sake, man. It will only show me Skills that are relevant to our employment needs. Do you really think I want your Tier-III masturbation skill to sully a piece of parchment I have to stare at all day?”

Peter’s eyes grew wide. Hopefully, that was a joke. He tried not to chuckle at the idea of the bonuses that might accompany the Skill.

“Oh, very funny, sir,” the man said, giving him a weak smile. He held out his hand and manifested a beaten-up stack of paper tied together with rough twine. He placed it on the magical device, causing it to glow with a soft blue light. Numbers quickly appeared next to a few of the Skills on the parchment.

The official closed his eyes and rubbed his brow. “You have no points in Mathematics and are functionally illiterate, yet you think it would be reasonable for me to hire you as a shopkeeper?”

The man nodded hopefully. “Yes sir, that would be great.”

The official opened his eyes and shook his head. “Yes, well, that won’t be happening. You and your presumably single-digit intellect will be working in the textiles factory for at least the next month. By that point, you will presumably have cut off both of your thumbs, after which you will move on to sweeping floors for the rest of your natural life. Enjoy!” He waved the man towards a second door by the entrance, where an assistant waited to take the dazed man onto the next step of his employment journey.

“Alright, come on then,” the official said to the man in front of Peter, gesturing him over.

“Yes sir,” the man said as he approached the desk. “I have the Farming Skill. I could work in the fields?”

Nodding sagely, the official leaned forward. He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Tell me something. When I check your Tome, am I going to discover that you have a single point in Farming because you assembled a small pile of dirt in some back alley and grew a weed for the express purpose of being able to walk into this room and tell me you have the Farming Skill?”

The man opened his mouth, paused, then hung his head. “Yes, sir.”

The official sighed. “Well, at least you didn’t lie through your teeth. As a reward for your honesty, I will give you a choice: Factory, tannery, or docks?”

“Oh, docks, sir!” the man said, brightening.

The official nodded. “I assume you have Swimming?”

“No, sir. Do you think I’ll need it?”

The official paused, then leaned around the man to make eye contact with Peter as though to say, “Can you believe this guy?”

“You know what?” the official said, returning his focus to the man. “Why not. I can’t think of a single reason why a person working at the docks would need to know how to swim. The job is yours! Have fun for the next couple of weeks.”

“What happens in a couple of weeks?”

“Your funeral, one would presume. Next!”

The man walked away, leaving Peter as the only applicant remaining. So far, this had not been what he expected from a job interview. It appeared that this man intended to simply decide Peter’s job, and he had no intention of letting that happen. At least he hadn’t made the mistake of unlocking the Farming Skill before the meeting. He would probably have done so at a very high level, and the last thing he wanted was a career spent outside the city walls pulling sentient carrots out of the ground.

“And so, there is you,” the official said. He glanced at Peter’s heavily bandaged left arm, scowling slightly before continuing. “My last appointment before lunch. What have you got for me—two points of Sailing, and you’d like to captain your own galleon?”

“Actually, I was thinking of a job as an accountant,” Peter said.

The man stared at him. He didn’t move. Just stared.

It was a bit creepy.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked.

“I’m not sure,” the official said. “You see, I am struggling to process how those words emerged from your mouth as a coherent sentence that wasn’t part of an elaborate joke. In what world do you think you have the Skills necessary to be an accountant?”

Earth, actually.

Instead of voicing his thoughts, Peter gestured to the Skill-reading device. “Why don’t we find out?”

“By all means,” the official said. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms as Peter summoned his Tome and placed it on the device. As soon as text appeared on the parchment, the official lurched forward, staring closely at the information it displayed.

His eyes snapped up to Peter. “You have both Mathematics and Accounting at Journeyman level?”

“My Writing Skill is also at 26, if that matters. It’s not Journeyman, but it’s close.”

“Gods, man! What are you doing here?”

“I need a job?” Peter responded, not really understanding the question.

“I understand that part of the equation. I’m asking how you managed to get these Skills without already being employed?”

“I’m not from around here,” Peter said, thinking on-the-fly. “There was some unpleasantness back where I’m from, and we decided to leave.”

NEW GENERAL SKILL LEARNED!

Improv – Skill Level 11 (Tier-I)

Yeah, the Skill is called Improv, but let’s be realistic: It’s just lying on short notice. So, there you have it. You’re okay at lying.

Tier-1 Bonus: Effective increase of +1 to Charisma when using this Skill.

*Since this Skill predates your arrival in Arenia, it has been set at a level commensurate with the practical ability you already possess.

650 XP Earned (cumulative)

The official nodded in sage understanding. “I see. Totally understandable. What was it? Murder? Insurrection? Come on, you can tell me. Actually, no, I don’t want to know. Just as long as it wasn’t embezzlement, and I didn’t see the Embezzling Skill on your list.”

“Murder and insurrection wouldn’t be a problem?” Peter said incredulously.

“With Accounting Skills like these? I don’t care if you were carried here on a magic palanquin powered by the sundered hopes and dreams of everyone who ever loved you.” He stood up from his chair. “Come, you’re joining me for lunch. There are some people I’d like you to meet. Oh, and my name is Appolon Foedus. I am a member of the Foedus Family—the rulers of House Laws.” He looked Peter up and down. “Perhaps we should visit a tailor before lunch. You look like a peasant.”

Appolon then got behind Peter and bodily pushed him towards the door with a Strength belying his wiry stature.

“Hang on!” Peter said. Now that he knew how valuable his Skills were, he felt a lot more confident about his negotiating position. “I haven’t accepted any job yet, and I’m not going to do so without some very specific requests.”

“Citizens do not make demands of the Families,” Appolon said haughtily. “You are the one asking for a job, after all.”

“Yes, and I’m also aware that Laws isn’t the only Family in this city. All this meeting represents is me giving you the first opportunity to convince me to come work for you.” Peter had no idea how thick the ice was beneath his feet, but he had learned enough about Palmyre to suspect that greed was probably sufficient to bend most customs.

The official looked at Peter contemplatively. “Alright. What are these demands of yours?”

“I have two,” he said. “One: I don’t know how you normally operate, but I don’t want to be some cog in an office somewhere, punching a clock on an arbitrary basis. I will do my work competently and effectively, but I won’t sit in a room for 12 hours because that’s how long you think a workday should be. If I can get my work done in 8 hours, that’s how long it’s taking.”

Appolon frowned. “That is a degree of autonomy not normally given to those outside the Family, but it isn’t unheard of. There would be a trial period of 10-hour days, five days a week before it could be allowed, though. Say, six months. If you aren’t found to be sufficiently trustworthy by then, you will have to work according to our normal criteria.”

“Three months’ probation, and if I don’t pass muster, our relationship is terminated and I am free to provide my services to another Family.”

The last thing Peter would do was hand Laws the opportunity to completely negate his autonomy on a whim. Something he was sure the man had intended, based on the annoyed look on his face.

A paper appeared, but it came and went so fast that it might as well have been invisible.

NEW GENERAL SKILL LEARNED!

Negotiation – Skill Level 24 (Tier-II)

Pretty useful Skill. Or it would be, if Palmyre permitted bartering. Which it doesn’t.

Tier Bonuses: The Negotiation Skill does not have Tier rewards. Instead, the reward is expressed in terms of how effective your requests are versus the Negotiation Skill of the person you are negotiating with.

*Since this Skill predates your arrival in Arenia, it has been set at a level commensurate with the practical ability you already possess. Also, lucky for you that Palmyre doesn’t allow bartering, or this guy would probably outrank you by a wide margin.

3,950 XP Earned (cumulative)

RENOWN LEVEL UP!

Level 14 Achieved

XP: 43,900

XP to next Renown: 5,900

“Agreed,” the official said reluctantly. “And your second demand?”

Now it was time for the real reason he was willing to work for one of the Families. “I want to learn how to fight.”

That one took the man aback. “You want to learn how to fight?”

“Yes,” Peter said. “Other than a few scraps in my youth, I have almost no weaponry or hand-to-hand combat Skills. I want to learn.”

“But…why? You are an accountant? Your salary would be sufficient to pay for bodyguards if that is your concern.”

Peter raised his heavily bandaged arm. “Let’s just say I’ve learned from past experience. Plus, I’d imagine the trainers House Laws could set me up with would be superior to whatever I can scrape together.”

“Hmm,” Appolon said, tapping his lip. “This has something to do with your recent move from parts unknown?”

Peter chuckled at the man’s phrasing. “That is most definitely the case.”

The Laws representative took a long time to consider the request, which was somewhat surprising. Peter had expected the idea to be accepted or summarily dismissed without much discussion. Any Family would have trainers, but they might not take kindly to wasting resources on an overweight accountant. However, if they did connect him to their network, that meant connections he could leverage for his family.

The man’s eyes got a sly look.

“Strength, Constitution, and Dexterity?” he asked.

“20, 19, and 19 respectively.”

“Hmm…” the man muttered. “Thoroughly average, but not pathetic. Yes…I think I can accommodate you. It will be in addition to your normal duties, of course.”

“Of course,” Peter said.

“Excellent. To summarize, you will work for us on a probationary basis for three months. If you fail to show satisfactory performance, your employment will be terminated. If your performance is satisfactory, you will be given autonomy over your schedule. In return, you will receive monetary compensation and training up to the rank of ‘Proficient’ in two Weapon Skills and three Fighting Styles of your choice, as well as Stealth, Dodge, and two other General Skills of our choice, both of which must reach the level of ‘Proficient’ before beginning training your third Fighting Style.

“Once you have completed the agreed upon training, you will need to pay for any additional training on your own, but we can certainly provide you with trainers at a reasonable rate. However, if you are determined at the end of your probationary period to not have ‘passed muster,’ as you say, you will be required to remunerate House Laws for any training you received prior to that point.”

It was far more than Peter had expected. He wasn’t thrilled about them choosing Skills on his behalf, but Appolon insisted on it as a requirement for the rest of the training. He argued that since training was the main avenue of investment in an employee’s growth, the opportunity cost of allowing Peter to embark on his own regimen effectively decreased his value to the Family. By putting their own training into the contract, their interest in his development wouldn’t suffer. The fact that the Skills weren’t identified wasn’t ideal, but since Peter didn’t want to accidentally give away that he was a Legend by including a Skill that would suddenly jump to double digits the first time he tried it, he was forced to let it slide. This way, he at least had some buffer room to try and identify what Skills they might target and then do his best to unlock them in advance.

“That’s largely acceptable,” Peter said. “However, if I do leave after three months, I don’t want to pay for the training in any Skills you picked for me, and any training I do have to pay for would be at the rate set by the Palmyre government as of the date we finalize the contract, minus 10%.” He held up his bandaged arm. “And I want you to fix this. For free.”

Appolon scowled. “I don’t recall seeing the Negotiation Skill on your list when I looked. Clearly, I did not look hard enough. However, your demands are reasonable, and we would have made arrangements for your arm anyway.” He frowned. “Well, reasonable enough that I’m willing to suffer the consequences. Regardless, I believe we have a deal.”

“And salary?” Peter asked.

“We are willing to offer a thousand Palmyrian pounds a week. That’s a good wage for the profession—we’ve learned the hard way that it’s a bad idea to make a man a pauper and then ask him to move your money around. Besides, an accountant of your Skill level is not something we are willing to let slip through our fingers.”

Peter nodded. Darius had explained to them the system of pay scales based on Tome-identified professions, and that number was at the high end of what they’d discussed. Not enough to make him wealthy, but in roughly the same income bracket as Darius.

They spent some more time reviewing the nuances of the contract, covering different edge cases and making sure that neither party had the opportunity to screw the other one over—though both of them tried—eventually coming to a wording that they could agree on.

“Alright,” Peter said, leaning back from the contract they’d worked out and stretching his back. “I think we’re good here.”

“Excellent,” Appolon said. Then the man did something odd. He held his hands together in front of him, flat and palms up, like an open book. “What do you say? Would you like to join House Laws?”

Not knowing what else to do, Peter mimicked the gesture. Appolon folded his hands together like he was closing a book, and Peter did the same.

Appolon smiled. “Welcome to House Laws.”

New Profession Alert: Accountant!

You see, there are these Celestial beings who created an entire program to bring Earthlings to Arenia because there is a need for great and powerful souls in this universe. Souls that redefine power and accomplishment. You, of all the people on Earth, were one of the few granted this opportunity.

And you decided to become an accountant.

- Relevant Skills have been converted to “Professional Skills.” Professional Skills increase at a faster rate than other Skills

- You are impervious to ink stains

- You have been granted low-light vision, seeing in low light as though it were daylight, but only within half a metre

- You are capable of sitting for up to 12-hours straight without suffering butt-pain-related debuffs

Quest: “Get a Job, Slacker” Completed!

A new profession and a new job—look at you! I can’t think of anything that could possibly go wrong from deciding that a blacksmith knows more about Palmyrian politics than a woman intimately associated with the Families to the point that one of them is actively trying to kill her off. Misogynist much?

Reward for Success: 500 XP, Gainful Employment

Well, that wasn’t ominous at all, was it?