In the Rear, with the Gear

Chapter 168

Pip had never in his life felt so miserably stupid. He was a thief by trade, and to his knowledge a pretty good one. Not a Rogue certainly, but those were vanishingly rare. He was on the tenth of fifteen traps and he’d yet to have a bloody idea what any of them were let alone how to go about disarming them.

A particularly serious failure as he was looking at them with the bare mechanisms revealed rather than hidden. He’d done better in the survival section when it came to what one could eat and how to deal with standard things like deadfalls and snares.

“This kind of shit is down there?” Pip asked no one in particular.

“It's where we dug it out, yeah,” Heather replied. She was his test something or other fancy sounding. She’d spent the majority of the time drawing red x’s with a crayon, as she called it, on his score and peeling an apple.

“Well, then I’m fucked,” Pip said without feeling ashamed. He’d been provided tools but didn’t know what half of them were even for. The bag of marbles in particular seemed entirely out of place.

“Eh, s’not that big a deal. Turn up for training if you want to learn and just live with being copper in the meantime. It's not like you can't participate in gathering just because of that,” Heather offered along with the peeled apple. It was probably a pity driven offer, but Pip had grown up such that he never turned down food and accepted it.

“What good would I even be?” Pip asked, curious.

“The last bit is about that, how gathering works and the different roles. You could either run carts to deliver the goods back to the entrance or gather things yourself. Work is work and you’ll get your share the same as everyone else,” Heather explained, ending with a shrug.

“That seems… oddly fair,” Pip admitted. He didn’t trust anything that was too fair.

“Heh, thank the mayor for that. She’s an odd one all around,” Heather said.

“Right, haven't seen her though I keep hearing about her,” Pip admitted, curious.

“She’s busy,” Heather replied casually. It was something that came up a lot. Everyone seemed to know the mayor, which was normal in a small town, but there was an oddly casual air to it. As if they weren’t much interested in what she was doing. He wasn’t sure if that meant they trusted her, she was useless so it didn’t matter, or something else he couldn’t quite put together.

“Want to save yourself the trouble and just take the fail now? You can't pass at this point anyway,” Heather asked. Pip was caught off guard by that but sighed and nodded in the end. His pride was already in tatters and he could better use the time finishing the rest of the assessment and getting a meal at the guild hall.

It wasn’t long before Pip was back with everyone else. Jarod, Cord, and Argent looked like they’d had the shit kicked out of them and Quint was just curled in fetal positon looking depressed.

“It went well I take it?” Pip asked merrily. It lifted his spirits a bit to see that he hadn’t been the only one to have a rough time.

“Fuck off,” Jarod replied without spirt.

They all ranked copper and the follow up lesson about what roles they could have during the gathering was short. Weirdly Quint didn’t ever come out of his haze of misery even when they were back at the guild eating.

“What all happened to him? He’s acting like he got kicked in the head by a horse or something,” Pip ventured. Quint had made it through his meal but hadn’t even gone for a second ale.

“Magic test didn’t go well. I didn’t understand the details, but it seems like he doesn’t know any serious magic, just street tricks,” Jarod offered.

“So?” Pip asked, at a loss. Those street tricks were useful enough for the work the Daggers usually did.

“I don’t get it either, he’s the most magic person I know,” Jarod said. Quint didn’t stir at them talking about him like he wasn’t there despite being at the table. Not a good sign but not something he knew what to do with either. He was more accustomed to and comfortable with needling the other man for being such a know it all.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“We're all still in for the job though, right?” Pip asked. He could go alone if needed, but didn’t enjoy the idea. The guild seemed fine but he was leery to try something new without people he trusted watching his back.

“Course,” Jarrod replied immediately. Cord and Argent gave affirmative grunts. With that settled they passed the evening more or less ignoring Quint and heading to bed early.

Equipped with a copper tag Pip gave the notice board a try the next morning and found doing odd jobs around the town basically fine and reasonably well paying. It was also something to distract him while they all waited for the gathering.

Coin in his pocket he managed to afford a new pair of plain daggers that made the best of his old set seem terribly shabby. He sold his worst pair for scrap and the looks he got at the forge suggest they were being charitable in doing so. A better set of leather was right out of the question though. Much too costly but very, very, nice.

With something to do Pip kept busy and collected coin until the morning of the gathering expedition. He wouldn’t get rich with copper jobs, but minor comfort was in reach. The crew gathered for the task were laid back, but not unduly. They’d done it a few times before and knew the layout rather than being arrogant.

What was less enjoyable was the appearance of the Red Sun company. Bunch of braggarts seemed to have gotten in the prior evening and washed up at an inn. Daren spouted off like he was wont to do and brushed past everyone getting ready to work at the entrance to the mine like they weren’t there. All but Dawn who stood in the passage, half a head taller than Daren who wasn’t a short man.

“You're going to die if you go like you are,” Dawn said flatly.

“Spoken like a small town talent,” Daren replied. Before he could say more Dawn simply stepped aside gesturing graciously for him to continue on.

Pip couldn’t help a snort at that. Dawn had heroic class levels, small town talent was a much more apt description of Daren himself. He was glad to see the highhanded bastard and company march to their doom, but of course, Jarod wasn’t so sensible.

Jarod had stopped two of them and was speaking quietly. Two younger men pip hadn’t noticed the last time. Coin exchanged hands and the pair took off for the town. Daren didn’t come back looking for them though so they might as well have taken their time.

Dawn delayed the start of their descent, letting the other group get ahead of them rather than trying to catch up. Nobody protested, not fancying a chance meeting in the dark.

“Why bother with that?” Pip asked once they were on their way.

“I do what I please, Pip,” Jarod replied.

“Which is helping fancy bastards out now, is it?” he countered.

“Your losin your touch if you thought they looked fancy. Just a pair of kids Daren paid to walk ahead once nobody was lookin,” Jarod countered.

Pip shut up at that, he’d been hired on to something similar once, though not in a dungeon. Jarod had been the one dragging him half dead out of the woods afterwards. As much as he didn’t like seeing someone waste money, he couldn’t argue with that kind of a thing.

The walk through the mine was lit well and easy. A couple of old carts were used to bring supplies along until they reached the actual dungeon entrance. An eerie chamber with a high ceiling and stairs leading down. The way the light poured in from above made it easy to miss the alcoves on both sides with colored magic circles carved into the floor.

“Top three floors are rich in materials and low in danger, but it's not totally absent. Mind your feet and don’t randomly drink or eat anything and you’ll be fine. Cord, you said you want to man the cart yeah?” Dawn said. Cord just nodded, stepping forward to start transferring gear from the cart to a waiting hand pull one at the bottom of the stairs.

Pip and the rest of the Daggers got gathering tools, packs with water and rations, and sacks to put their goods in. Unlike the top level, the next floor had lighting of a kind, though it tended to be weak and occasionally sputter. It was enough work by though.

Rather than leave everyone to fend for themselves, more experienced gathers paired off with the new at Dawn's order.

“Names Malcolm, I’ll show you how things are done today. Pay attention and you’ll be ready to do it on your own by lunch,” Malcolm offered cheerfully.

“Right, thanks,” Pip managed, almost sounding sincere. He didn’t fancy having to work with someone, certain it would affect his cut of things. Despite that Malcolm was easy enough to get along with and the hours went by at a reasonable pace. By the end of the day he was tired, but not unexpectedly so.

The gathered goods would have to be sold before a proper share could be given, but the weights were marked and some advanced pay given for the hours they’d worked. More than enough for Pip to live well until the next scheduled one in two weeks time.

“Wonder how far down the Suns make it before turning tail and running,” Cord asked no one in particular as they were all headed into the guild hall. Pip was looking forward to dinner and a hot bath and had no interest in the subject.

“Those blowhards who stormed the dungeon this morning? Already dead,” Malcolm said. Some of the townies scoffed or laughed at it while they secured pints of whatever they fancied.

“Really?” Pip asked, a little surprised. It wasn’t as if he had a high opinion of the Sun’s skills. Still, they were better than the Daggers and they’d been alright in the higher layers as Dawn had called them.

“If they don’t turn back before they hit the actual combat ones? Yeah, dead,” someone else offered. “Dungeon seems nice and inviting, right up until it's not.”

“Well, fair enough,” Pip said, not particularly bothered. He’d gotten his own pint and was sitting down with the rest of the Daggers. The kids from earlier were loitering nearby, looking over curiously and he had a feeling they’d be up two members shortly.

“Eh, fuck’em. Lets have roast tonight,” Jarod offered cheerfully. Pip raised his pint, that he could drink to.