The Hunter's Guide to Monsters

Chapter 92 - Spare Me, Masters, At Least Give A Discount! (1)

It was a good thing Krow at least bought scribe tools and basic skills last night after he left the butchers, because he hadn't expected this.

The basic skills of Scout and Tracker were the same: Stalk and Keen-eyed. Stalk was already covered by his Forester subclass.

He thought it was a coincidence when the master scout of the Rakaen Town Guard challenged him to an obstacle race before he allowed Krow to buy the Keen-eyed skill and the Marcher skill for the Soldier subclass.

But this was his third visit to one of the town's masters, and the siren smilingly offered a game of shahmat before getting down to business.

Chess, basically. 

The master leatherworker he'd visited this morning also required him to assist in preparing several curing solutions before he deigned to sell him Tanner and Skinner skills.

Three times, as they said, was enemy action.

Krow suspected Balgurai.

"This can't be how this town conducts business?" he grumbled even as he sat opposite one of the master Accountants of the Essax bank.

"You must understand," the siren stated, smile unchanging. "You are buying a skill, not apprenticing. I do not know your character, nor what you would use my skill for. To sell you this hard-learned skill, should I not be worried? Shahmat is a test of the mind and character, more than simply a game. You would not refuse?"

"I'm already sitting down," Krow pointed out.

"Excellent." She brought out a game board, a game already in progress. She tapped a symbol on the side of the board, and the pieces rearranged to starting positions. "Black to you, young sir. Shall we start?"

He hummed, moved a pawn to classic opening position.

At the end of two hours, they were glaring at each other.

"I would not have thought a draculkar to be so devious," she seethed.

"I expected a siren to be more vicious," he taunted back.

On the board, only six pieces remained. Three to black, three to white.

"Kingless in two," she stated.

Krow narrowed his eyes at her, moved his king.

She threw her hands up. "You stubborn jackass."

"Kingless," he said, stubbornly, "in five."

"What?!"

He tapped her lone castle.

She chuckled angrily, then took a deep breath and sighed. "I'll sell you the skill. While the contrary nature in your playing style is undoubtedly interesting, we'll be here until sundown if we wait for a decisive win."

"What contrary nature? I believe I'm very accommodating."

She snorted, leaned back in her chair. "You are the most unaccommodating person I've met in years."

Krow straightened in his seat, stretched tensed muscles with a sigh of relief. "You'll sell a skill to someone like that?"

She smiled, wry. "The skill 'Calculate' is not an ability limited to numbers. With your bull-headed, dog-persistent, mule-intractable nature, I can be assured it will at least not be used haphazardly."

"Oy." There was no need to keep repeating the sentiment. 

Besides, all skills could be used in ways not limited by subclass.

She all but chased him out of the bank after tossing him the Skill Shard.

None of them even gave him a discount, like the butcher shop did!

Krow huffed.

He studied the busy streets, snagged someone who looked like a local. "Do you know where I can find someone selling Ghost Stones?"

The man shook his head, shrugged him off.

"Alright. Sorry for bothering you." Krow released him and snagged the next likely individual.

It was not until the sixth catch that the person nodded to his question. "You could simply ask at Bothadin Temple."

There was a temple of Bothadin here?!

"Thanks." He released the teen-ager, who fastidiously straightened his sleeves with an air of indignation before continuing on his way.

Oh shkav, he forgot to ask where that was.

Oh well. 

He reached out and grabbed another of the mass of people on the streets. "Good afternoon. Would you know where Bothadin Temple is?"

He got a passel of strange looks for that question.

Luckily, he only needed to ask two people this time.

Bothadin was the deity of sacrifices, represented by a body hanging upside down from an obelisk. One of the bloodier deities of Destruction. 

Bothadin the Sacrifice and Takrul the Shadowed shared between them the distinction of being considered deities attached to the domain of death.

Their Temples would definitely have someone selling Ghost Stones.

Ghostcaller was the last subclass he had to buy basic skills for, since Greater Appraisal already took covered the basic Smelter and Clockmaker skills.

The temple of Bothadin was, like the Pravdakyr Temple, on a pillar some distance from the center of Rakaens.

Bothadin and Pravdakyr in one place – the history of Rakaens must be very interesting. 

The kind of interesting that, when dug into, would spawn secrets better left uncovered.

And possibly numerous treasures.

While Krow was curious, unearthing an extended questline here would take him away from Cerkanst too long.

Besides, craftmasters being here meant most of those secrets were in the hands of players already.

When he stepped onto the temple grounds, he found that the bulk of Bothadin Temple was not on a pillar, it was carved into the pillar. 

In addition, there was a short skybridge hidden behind the pillar that extended into a hole in the ridge.

A cave?

Ugh. He'd had too much experience with caves lately.

Thankfully, the seller of Ghost Stones was in the outer pillar of the Temple.

Krow was used to young people working jobs in Zushkenar that Earth would condemn as unlawful child labor.

But the draculkar proprietor of the small temple shop didn't look like he was even close to approaching ten years in age. 

And yet, he met Krow's eyes with a gaze older than his body seemed. Or maybe that was just the long pipe he was smoking. "A customer?"

"I am. I'm looking for Ghost Stones. Rare or higher if you have them."

The child grinned, showing a gap between his teeth and a hint of fang. It was a sight that would have many girls screaming at the adorableness.

The words he spoke, however, were not adorable at all.

"Three hundred for Rare, nine hundred for Unique."

Gah.

Child, if you want to be a bandit in broad daylight, at least threaten the target with a naked weapon. It would get confusing otherwise.