Tristan

"The winner of TOP CRAFT in the Tier 2 Secondary Crafting Class Contest is... the [Survivor's Pendant], crafted by Tristan Hammerson!"

Suddenly Sophie was gripping his arm and jumping up and down. Everyone was turning toward him. Tristan was surrounded by the loudest applause he ever remembered hearing, and somehow it was still getting louder!

As he stood, he could barely feel his feet. He raised his hand once again and waved it at the crowd, which only got louder still!

His face was hurting from smiling and laughing so much, and he just couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe it at all. Even as Sophie was squealing, "Tristan, you won! You won! YOU WON!" it still somehow didn't feel real.

From the stage, Bobby made another announcement, maybe about the second place winner, or when the Tier 3 contest would be starting, but Tristan was so shocked he didn't really hear it.

"I won," he said so quietly it was just to himself. Warmth filled his chest.

Then he was absolutely mobbed as seemingly everyone present wanted to come and congratulate him. Luckily, he had a reason to not fully engage: he had a prize to claim up on stage.

It wasn't until his feet began to climb the stairs, that he earned any break from it all. And thanks to his new [Clock] skill, Tristan knew that it had taken exactly 4 minutes to walk the fifteen feet up to the stage.

The green-skinned host was standing only a few paces away, with his very practiced and charming smile on full display. "Congratulations, young man! I must say, your pendant truly is a thing of beauty, and the judges said your technique was nearly flawless. A few were quite impressed by how fine your rune's linework was! What do you have to say for yourself?"

Tristan beamed at the praise, even if a small part of him would have preferred to hear it from the judges themselves--until he realized what Bobby was asking of him. He froze, not wanting to answer at all. Not with so many people clearly listening to every word.

But then he took a moment and thought. They were probably all crafters; this was the Crafting Ark.

"Thank you," he managed to say. "I'm so grateful for this opportunity the Ark has provided. I'm just glad my hard work was recognized."

"And it truly has been!" Bobby said, holding out a small bag with "[PRIZE]!" written on it in blocky black letters that closely imitated a property you might find on an item. With a wink, he gave Tristan advice so threadbare it could serve as a window:

"Don't spend it all in one place."

I wonder how much gold it is.

The moment Tristan accepted the prize, he received a notification.

You have gained the Crafting Ark Contest Winner Achievement! You have gained the title: {Ark Winner}.

He definitely shouldn't have been surprised, but somehow he still was. Getting an Achievement for winning made the victory taste even sweeter, and he couldn't wait to expand his new title to see what it did. Not that he'd ever replace {Student of Jamal} with it, but most titles did give passive bonuses, whether equipped or not. It seemed this one was no different.

{Ark Winner} While creating an item, add +1% to all bonuses that apply to your crafting, and subtract 1% from any penalties to your crafting. (Repeatable)

Except that the simple quality of this title was kind of shocking. Despite only adding or subtracting one single, small percent, it affected all his future crafts. His immediate consideration was that this might be an additional percent chance for [Enhance Craft I] to happen, doubling its likelihood! That it also might reduce the chance of failure when he was experimenting was even better.

And it's repeatable? If I win the next contest, too, will it go up to 2%? He really hoped he'd get a chance to find out. He glanced down at the bag. There's no way the rest of the prize can match up to that. Can it?

The bag in his hand felt all but empty, but he knew that wasn't right. So he reasoned it must be a magical storage bag. He tried to open it as he headed for the stairs, but no matter what he did, he couldn't pull, pry, or even rip the sides apart.

"What is going on?" he asked aloud, almost to no one in particular.

"Can I help?" Sophie offered from the bottom of the stairs.

Frustrated that he couldn't open it, even with all his Strength, he tossed the bag Sophie's way.

Of course, she opened it immediately.

"Huh, that wasn't hard at all," she said, clearly surprised. "And wow, Tristan, you're going to want to see this!" She handed him the bag.

Now mildly embarrassed, Tristan was very careful not to let it close again.

At least what he saw inside proved that the bag itself was magical storage... though apparently it wasn't one he could use. Must not be Soulbound, he assumed, once again lamenting the heavy handed, Ark-wide block on [Identify].

Still, sifting through the prize, while it was definitely nice, it wasn't nearly as impressive as the title. Few things probably would be at tier 2, not for someone completely focused on pushing and growing their Path.

For starters, the bag contained a lot of coins, and it looked like a fair number of them were platinum. There were easily more coins than Tristan could count without dumping the whole bag out. When he got back to his cabin, it would definitely be one of the first things he did. He had a feeling that his money troubles would be over for at least the near future.

There was also a slip of cardstock that read, "Guaranteed: a single item commissioned from any tier 3 or lower crafter, under 100 platinum," and was signed, simply, "Jack."

He was pretty sure this wouldn't be as valuable to him as it would be for anyone else, but it was still an impressive offer. Maybe he could commission something specifically with the intent of then upgrading it or using it as a component in one of his own crafts. He'd done something like that with the talisman from the Brightshield, so he wouldn't rule out the coupon's potential usefulness.

His mind was suddenly aflame with all kinds of new possibilities. And this is just from the Secondary Class Contest. I bet the prizes for the Primary Classes will be even better!

He only had a little over a week to wait until he hoped he'd find out.

As Mister Biggs led them away from the stage, Sophie turned to ask, "Hey Tristan, other than being absolutely gorgeous, what does your pendant do? It's not everyday you get to see the 'top item from a Secondary contest' on the Crafting Ark!"

"Yeah, and you really don't need to call it that," Tristan said with a cocky grin. "Still, thanks for saying it. Feels good to hear."

Laughing lightly, Sophie agreed, "Yeah, saying the whole title really didn't feel natural, but you're welcome. You earned it!"

So Tristan told her about the properties he'd managed to add.

"Wow, those both sound really impressive and useful."

"Yeah, I guess, but they're also kind of impractical. I worry they'd be too easy to forget about."

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"Wouldn't that be a good thing?" Sophie asked. "Passive defenses like that can be great! Being able to forget about a useful defensive cooldown and then have it automatically trigger when you truly need it? Sounds great to me."

Tristan had to agree, it did sound good. The problem is that it was a neck piece, and you could only get effects from one at a time. He wasn't sure that these effects would be worth it, even in tier 2, when more raw stats might provide a bigger or better benefit. He wasn't even sure he wanted to waste his own necklace slot on two defensive abilities that might never be relevant.

Granted, the pendant was way better than the [Simple Necklace] he was currently wearing, since all that gave him was a measly +2 armor. But that wasn't saying much. He'd made that necklace all the way back at level 5! All of his new crafts, especially the [Survivor's Pendant], showed just how much better his crafting had become since then. He could only imagine what he could do if he wasn't just going for the 'wow factor' like he'd done for the contest. If he tightened down the cooldown, for example, or pushed into more offensive abilities--

"Tristan!" Sophie urged, pulling him from his daydreaming. "Did you get lost in your head again?" She made a gesture toward the small crowd that had gathered around them, all trying to congratulate him.

"Ah, right, sorry."

As Sophie began helping with introductions, Tristan did his best to stay in the moment, even as the first group was replaced by a second wave, and then a third.

At least he wasn't alone. Having Sophie with him (and Mister Biggs, to a lesser extent) gave him the periodic breaks in attention he hadn't realized he needed. He hadn't ever been the center of so much attention before, and he found it incredibly draining.

But there was one group Tristan wasn't mad to see walking away from the other finalists straight out the door without coming his way: the sore losers from the Steelblood Guild.

I guess they truly did let the crafts do the talking, he thought with a grin.

- - - - -

Aaric

The scout had been the one to answer the door, which was why Aaric was surprised when a slender hooded figure walked into their shared apartment. It had been a long couple of weeks thanks to the seemingly constant stream of Steelblood people trying to either impress or curry Aaric's favor. None of them had gotten past the scout, though.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" he asked, glancing at the scout before trying to size up the newcomer.

The person was wearing a strange hooded traveling cloak that seemed to constantly shift in color. Its base was a silver that both flowed and changed as the material moved, shifting to reds and blues in some areas while darkening to purples and greens in others.

So shrouded, the newcomer was hard to read. But the way they walked also did not seem to imply as much grace as someone like the scout. They didn't immediately strike Aaric as a combat Class, either. The only thing he knew for certain was that the cloak was impressive, and anyone wearing it for an introduction must also be aware of how intriguing it looked.

"I'm called Quinn," the figure said, and Aaric couldn't quite tell what to think about the voice. It was higher in register, with an accent he couldn't quite place, somehow adding a second syllable to the 'I' and hollowing out the 'called'. Certainly odd, but it wasn't displeasing. Unlike what they said next: "Your father sent me."

"Great," Aaric groaned.

With a single raised hand, Quinn swept the hood back from their face, and Aaric was even more confused. The face beneath was, well, mostly not a face. It was more of a smooth and fairly blank expanse.

"What... Why are you here, Quinn?"

"I'm your new attendant, Master Longbloom." A mouth of roughly standard size opened and closed as the words came out, but as soon as it was done, it blended back into the dome-like face. "I've been hired by your father with a contract of indefinite length. I'm here to replace Jacques."

"The fuck you are," Aaric said, standing.

He hadn't even realized he'd spoken until, looking toward the scout, he saw the man's head shaking with disbelief, even chuckling lightly before confirming, "He is, though. I got the notification the moment I opened the door."

Aaric walked toward the newcomer, Quinn, trying to size them up. [Identify] wasn't much help.

[Quinn, Shifter, level ?]

So at least Tier 3. I wonder what they do. Since Quinn was a shifter, Aaric couldn't read too much into their body and posture. Sure, they stood half a head shorter than him, but that slight slouch could have just been affected so Aaric would dismiss them! It might not even be the shifter's true form--as much as such a thing existed.

The situation was filled with too many uncertainties, and Aaric didn't like it.

"Well, I don't want another attendant."

"I'm afraid that is not for you to decide, sir," Quinn replied with a shrug. "Your Lord father has made it quite clear that, even should you try to refuse my service, failure to perform my assigned duties would be a breach of contract, and the pay is far too high for me to throw it all away. Not to mention the prestige of such a contract."

Aaric felt his face souring as he looked at the scout, asking via party chat instead of aloud,

Aaric: Is there any chance we can just ditch this... person? Scout: I should warn you, sir, that my own contract has been amended with a hefty bonus for getting you to accept what is in your best interests. At least in this case. Aaric: ...And my best interests are...? Scout: Accepting this newcomer without reservation. Aaric: So is that your real opinion, or just the one my father is now paying you to have? Scout: I'm not sure why you think it can't be both.

Aaric's attention returned to the person in question, and he realized they hadn't moved at all since they'd last been addressed.

Stepping toward them, Aaric decided to test their resolve a little.

"You'll never replace Jacques, you know. No one can. He literally died to save my life."

The blank face nodded slightly. "I suppose I can see it from your point of view. From where I stand, though, you backed a losing horse, and now you're letting yesterday's losses affect today's decisions. His lack of flexibility is what got him killed. I would never fail like that. I'm kind of an all-trades specialist, afterall, so I offer far more than Jacques ever could."

Aaric bristled. "You're not just speaking ill of the dead, but of one of my friends."

"And as I heard it, Jacques' death was due to a major failing on your part. It's no wonder you're so touchy about it. But don't worry: should what led to such an incident happen again, I'll make sure to heal you up good as new after I bring you to safety. I can even pull you back from the brink should things get out of hand too quickly. Make no mistake, your odds are far better with me on the scene."

Aaric noticed the clear rolling of the scout's eyes, and he only wished he could do the same, but appearances mattered. I bet he can get a full [Identify] on this Quinn person. Maybe I can convince him to share it with me.

That was a talk for later. For now, he needed a few more answers before seeing how much they'd need to adjust their plans.

"So what, exactly, are the terms of your contract? How much are you supposed to help me?"

Quinn's head moved as if they were glancing around the room. "May we sit?"

"We were almost on our way out the door, actually," Aaric fibbed.

Behind him, the scout moved to a place where he was in Aaric's sightline, but out of Quinn's. A grin suggested he'd play along with wherever Aaric chose to take this.

"I see. With what destination?"

Again, Aaric stretched the truth. "A dungeon." They had been discussing heading out to a dungeon, but he was drastically speeding up the timeline.

The scout inclined his head slightly.

Aaric appreciated the subtle show of confidence.

"Which?" Quinn inquired.

"Rockmoor Cemetery," the scout provided.

Quinn nodded and cracked their knuckles. "A fair solo target. Well, it's good I arrived when I did, then. I'm here to be your personal healer--though I should add that I won't heal stupid mistakes. You must learn from those for yourself, paying either in blood or coin. Anything else, and I offer my services freely."

Aaric forced himself to smile. Once again, it seemed, his father was demanding more of him. A healer who only helped when he deemed it proper? What if this Quinn decided that nothing was ever proper? That would be inconvenient beyond anything his father had ever saddled him with before. He supposed it would continue to make him more self-reliant, though.

Aaric: Whatever happened to hiring a full party to escort me through dungeons? Scout: That was in tier 1, and your father has been perfectly clear that now you're expected to do more for yourself. Aaric: What if I want a full party now? Scout: Then I'd recommend one of the more traditional ways of building one. Like talking to people, asking them to come with you, or outright hiring them yourself. All things you love.

Aaric shuddered. He could only imagine how willingly some of those Steelbloods would be to accompany him. But was he really ready for that? A better question: was that what he wanted? How would he know how far he could push himself if he was reliant on others to cover for him? He needed to expose his own weaknesses and eliminate them.

"That's fine," he ended up saying, realizing he'd been quiet for a while. "I guess, welcome to the party." He extended the group invitation, which was instantly accepted.

"Thank you, Master Longbloom. I think you'll find that I more than cover your ante."

What an odd way to say it, Aaric thought. He wasn't sure, at least yet, but he supposed that going into a dungeon with this newcomer would be as good a way as any to see just how good they actually were.

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