The Flying Emporium

Severin’s initial reaction to the dwarf’s request was one of relief. His words could have easily been construed as insults, but the man didn’t take them to heart. He didn’t seem upset, and if in fact he was, he at least gave Severin the chance to explain himself before making judgement. In a way, this was an opportunity.

But there, of course, was also the unease.

It was the one topic he didn’t really want to talk about. Or rather, the one topic he was afraid to talk about.

But now... maybe that was simply the price he had to pay for his outburst. If he wanted to make things right, that was. He felt like he could hardly decline the request. Partly because he was tougher on himself than Bandur was.

Even still, he hesitated and debated with himself just how much information he could actually divulge. How much he could get away with not divulging.

During the following moments of silence, the dwarf stepped inside, expectantly but without urging Severin.

He carefully evaded the many glass shards on the floor until he stopped next to his boss, where he noticed a certain, still intact, bottle standing on one of the workbenches.

“By the… ! Is that a bottle of Rasfink’s Fifth?”

Quickly, almost comically so, the small man leaped forward and grabbed the bottle situated above him. With practiced ease, he removed the cork in a matter of seconds, seemingly with his bare hands.

The next moment, he was taking a big gulp, right out of the bottle.

“Aaah, that’s the good stuff,” he said, sounding almost surprised, as if he had not quite believed the large label on the bottle’s front.

“Lucky for you, you didn’t destroy that one. I promise we would have had a big problem if you did, lad!” Then, just when he was about to take another generous gulp, Bandur made a double-take.

“That was the only one, right? You didn’t destroy any?” With a panicked look that bore a stark contrast to his calm demeanor of when he first entered the room, even after seeing the mess Severin had created, he now scanned the floor. Only after finding no shards of the same brown-green tint as the bottle in his hands in-between the many transparent fragments of destroyed laboratory equipment, did he breathe an audible sigh of relief.

“Pheew. But how did you even get your hands on that stuff to begin with? Such a refined taste is truly hard to come by. I reckon in terms of required craftsmanship as well as the effect it has on people, it even rivals your elixirs. Long time since I… well. I think you might need this more than me right now.”

With that said, Bandur took another sip after which he wiped his beard-covered mouth with the back of his hand, making him look more than ever like one of the dwarves Severin knew from his world’s stories, instead of the nobleman the small man actually was.

Only then did he hand over the bottle; that was, he roughly stuffed it bottle into Severin’s stomach, prompting him to drink.

The later accepted the bottle, and gladly obliged.

“Paah!” he almost spat. “Refined my ass!“

“Haha, it is an acquired taste, I’ll give you that much. But I’m sure you’ll get there, eventually.”

“Ha, it tastes like it’ll leave me blind if I take even just another sip.” Resigned to this situation he had caused himself, Severin momentarily found some of his humor back; despite his unflattering evaluation of the ghastly drink that was more burn than taste, he laughed and again raised the bottle to his mouth.

Another sip, another curse, and he handed the bottle back over.

“What a swill. I needed that.”

“Swi-?! Aah, nice try.

But seriously now, talk to me. Tell me about where you’re from. What’s it like? It can’t truly be that different.”

“What’s it like?” Severin repeated. On the surface, it was such a simple question. But he found it more difficult to answer than he initially thought.

“It is... was… well, different.”

Bandur’s response was a look that seemed to say no shit, causing Severin to realize he had to be more specific than this.

The most obvious difference would of course be the existence of magic and all the other stuff that came with it, and while this was still a topic he wanted to avoid if he could, he felt it wasn’t even the most crucial point in this discussion, anyway; it wasn’t magic why he had been so upset. If anything, the magic of this world, which in Severin’s mind also included his System, had been the one thing he had come to accept with surprising ease.

No, it was the local customs-if one could call them that-which had left him so troubled.

“We don’t pretend someone being killed in broad daylight and without reason is in any way normal or acceptable, for instance.” As he was saying that, an even more scary thought came to him.

“But they weren’t pretending, were they? They really are used to this kind of stuff. So much so that they don’t even care anymore.

No, more than that, they enjoy it. I have seen it in Malcos, in the Arena. The bloodier the better, they-”

“Hold your horses now, lad!” Severin was about to talk himself into another frenzy, when Bandur turned serious and firmly interrupted him.

“It is my understanding that whatever happened this afternoon at the outpost was a very unfortunate incident, one which can not be judged by normal standards, with several political intricacies that need to be taken into account. But let me assure you of one thing. If it had been a regular citizen that had been assaulted in the same fashion, there would have been consequences. Serious ones. As for the good and hard-working people of Malcos, I won’t have you slander them. I don’t see anything wrong with them enjoying a good fight every once in a while. They don’t have much else, do they?”

“A good fight? They were killing each other! And-”

“And never on purpose! There are rules in place to prevent exactly that. And they join out of their free will, fully aware of all potential dangers, and-”

“AND,” Severin now interrupting the dwarf in turn, to finish his own sentence “the fact they don’t have anything else to do, to look forward to, is very much a problem in itself! A city full of magic! And you tell me that is the best they can do? Organize a slaughter every few years, have them celebrate a bloodbath, and call it a day?

And while we’re at it, lets no forget dungeon diving itself! Sure, at least they are only getting themselves killed…” at this point, he had to pull himself together not to think about Emily’s dungeon incident again,”…but they are risking their lives, not once, but on a daily basis. And for what? Think about it!

We both know the amount of money they make! Even the most inexperienced adventurer with one single dive makes more than some regular folk make in a whole year. And yet they go in there again and again. When they could instead simply retire and live out their lives in peace and quiet. But they don’t want peace, do they?! At this point, they are obsessed with death. They want-

“Severin!” came another admonition. “You’re overdoing it.

And what are you even trying to say? That you are looking down on this place? Its people? Its customs?”

“I-”

“The Games unite a whole continent of people, you know? And even if you were right with your claims- for which, by the way, I have yet to see even the slightest indicator, much less actual proof-then whose fault do you think that would be? The common folks’? Certainly not, I would hope.

As for adventurers risking their life. What’s wrong with that? You make it sound as if this was some foreign concept and not a universal truth that as long as there are people with classes, there will be people diving dungeons.

And aren’t you the same?”

“I-” “

Isn’t that why you are here, in the first place? To take the very same gold people died for, for yourself? To take advantage of the behaviour you condemned? You. No, we. We profit from these people risking life and limb without, in turn, risking anything substantial ourselves. So how can you judge them, following their nature?

Just as we do what we do, because we are [Shopkeeper] and [Employee],

they do what they do, because they are [Warrior], [Berserker], and [Barrier Mage].

It’s what gives us levels. It is what we are supposed to do. It is the order of this world!”

“You… You say that, but explain that to someone who doesn’t have a class to begin with, why levels are so important! Why a class dicta-”

“Sev! Do I have to seriously remind you how I ended up here in the first place?”

Now just as agitated as Severin, Bandur took another big gulp to calm himself, after which the former immediately requested the bottle for himself.

Both men, each annoyed with the other, sat there quietly, having their own thoughts.

But when Bandur began talking again, he sounded as calm as ever; almost gentle even.

“People here have their flaws, Severin, we all do. And I should know it better than most. But while I don’t know how people do things where you are from, I can’t imagine it to be truly all that different.

But before I hope you finally tell me the real difference in our ways, let me first tell you one thing.

Herbs. Ores. Meats. Pelts. Skins. Woods. Artifacts! We wouldn’t have access to a vast majority of the resources we so heavily depend on. That goes not just Malcos, but for all of Galira. Society as we know it simply wouldn’t function without adventurers and their sacrifices.

And just how I can’t believe these aspects to be all that different from where you are from, I don’t believe your people don’t have to make some, at times, unsavory compromises when it comes to politics.

People here aren’t obsessed with death, as you put it.

They just don’t fear it. They have learned to live with it. They are simply pragmatic.”

When Bandur stopped talking, Severin forced himself to swallow any quick-witted rebuttals already sitting at the tip of his tongue, and kept instead silent.

He would first have to calm down. Then he would try his best to let go of his pre- and postjudices as much as possible. He would control his emotions, and, once calmed down, evaluate Bandur’s words by their own merit. Not just because he didn’t want to drive him away, but because at least that much he owed the dwarf. And after that…

Besides…” But to his surprise, Bandur continued. And with a worrisome glint in his eyes.

“I’m not sure how this could be possible, but I heard you have been quite the adventurer yourself in the past. Maybe you wanna talk to me about that as well?”

“You, what?!” Severin blurted involuntarily.

“Not my words. Em’s. Something about being a Dragonslayer? Ring any bells?”

“Em did...? A Dragons-” Then came the realization.

”Ooooh, fuck!”