Foster looked around through the items on the ground, but in the end, really didn’t find much that he was particularly interested in. He didn’t mind continuing to fight with these gauntlets, and it wasn’t like he really knew how to use other sorts of weapons properly in the first place.
While he wasn’t the biggest fan of using them, he did have some experience with guns, but he doubted that he would be able to find one of those here anyway. And sadly, there weren’t any instructional moves for what he should do with different weapons in any of the books he took with him from Thiodrus’ place back then, even though Thiodrus had clearly been able to use so many different weapons, as evident from his collection.
“But then again…” Foster muttered quietly as he thought about the words he read when he unlocked the legacy, and continued his train of thought silently in his head, ‘…it did say that this legacy was about combining necromancy and martial arts, and not that specific style… So maybe I can find some other instructions for weapons…’
He looked around, and soon found a sword that looked pretty cool. He ran over there and picked it up, pointing its tip at Octer, who was standing near him, with a grin on his face, “What do you think, should I become a swordsman like Lynol?” He asked, and Octer looked back with a bit of a laugh.
“Right, you’re never gonna be a swordsman like Lynol. According to what you told us, you never liked using weapons too much.” Octer pointed out, “I think being a martial artist with that style of yours is gonna be fine.”
“Well, I didn’t say I ‘never’ liked using weapons… I do use weapons a lot, honestly. Just more, like… environmental stuff? Or well, when I was like 14, I would take these long metal pipes with me the whole time, because I thought they looked cool…”
“Wait, then why did you laugh at me because of my sword?”
“Because you’re an adult, Lynol. And the way you said it was just hilarious. Anyway… If you think a sword isn’t good for me, then is there any other weapon youthink would be good for me?” Foster asked, trying to change the topic so that Lynol wouldn’t bring up last night’s tournament as a revenge, and Octer thought for a moment.
“A staff, I’d guess. But it’s not like you really need a weapon in the first place, right?” He pointed out, and Foster scratched the back of his head for a moment, “I guess you’re right, yeah. Then let’s just look for some armor.”
As the group of three kept looking around, not finding anything that seemed to fit Foster at all, the drunken dwarf at the desk in the back of the room seemed to wake up again, if he was ever asleep at all. It seemed almost like he was just listening to them the whole time. He sat up and leaned back in his chair, “If ya want a good set of armor, ya gotta look over there. That one might fit ya.”
He pointed into the corner of the room, where a particular pile of rusted clutter had gathered, and Foster curiously walked over there. He removed some of the items, and soon found some things that seemed to actually be some decent armor.
And when he tried it on, it seemed to fit him perfectly as well. It didn’t particularly restrict his movement either. The whole set actually left open quite a few spots, covering his arms, legs, chest, and parts of his shoulders, meaning that it let Foster move around perfectly since it didn’t really cover his joints.
There were just a couple of issues with it. One, it was nearly completely covered in rust. Not only did it look like a piece of shit that would break within a few hits, but it felt like it as well. And on top of that, it was just incredibly heavy. It was probably some kind of steel, which in itself wasn’t the issue, but instead of thin sheets it was surprisingly thick.
As he voiced his complaints to Octer and Lynol, he quickly heard their response, “I don’t know about the rust, but the weight might as well be a positive for you. You know your style relies on a sturdy base stance and heavy, powerful attacks rather than quick, albeit lighter, attacks. This sort of armor may as well help you pull more power out of your style.”
“…Seriously?” Foster asked surprised. Considering everything, Thiodrus’ whole body couldn’t have weighed more than 35, at the very most 40 pounds, and that was including his clothes. Maybe that was part of why he was beaten so easily back then, simply because his weight was barely a thing at all. A huge detriment to martial arts based on weight.
“I guess you’re right…” He muttered quietly, and slowly took the armor off again, bringing it over toward the desk where the Dwarf was sitting.
“Erm, how much would this armor cost?” With a wry smile, already expecting another absolutely ridiculous number, Foster waited for the Dwarf’s answer. He took a quick look at it and then shrugged, “1500 Val.”
“Eh?” Foster let out surprised, and turned around toward the others. They were staring at him and immediately nodded their heads, advising him to immediately buy the armor before the Dwarf went back on his word. So, Foster quickly took out the pouch that was filled with his coins.
The money system was a bit confusing, though… There were a few kinds of currency he knew of, Copper, Bronze, Silver, Gold, and Platinum. Each had three levels to it as well. ‘Piece’, ‘Coin’, and ‘Large Coin’. For example, a Copper Piece was worth 1 Val, a Coin was worth 5 Val, and a Large Copper Coin was worth 20. A Bronze Piece then was worth 50, a Bronze Coin was worth 250, and a Large Bronze Coin was worth 1000. So, a ‘coin’ was worth five times more than a ‘piece’ of the same currency, while a large coin was worth four times more than a coin. That was always the same, although the starting worth of the ‘pieces’ were always different in relation to the large coins, of the next smaller currency. Hence, confusing.
For his work during the whole trip here to Arcadum, Foster earned a total of 2000 Val, which was a really decent starting amount. It was roughly 400 dollars, after all. Not much for a full month of work, but it was better than nothing. It didn’t even include all the coins that Foster took with him from Thiodrus’ place, since he wanted to have them properly exchanged for money at a bank first, to be absolutely sure of their actual value.
So, Foster took out some of his coins. The largest currency he could pay in was bronze coins, and he chose to exchange some of his smaller currency for Octer and Lynol’s bronze coins so that he could just give the Dwarf six of them and be done with it.
“Oh, by the way…” Foster said before he gave the dwarf the money, “How much would it cost for you to remove the rust from this?”
“…Hm…” The Dwarf muttered, “I ain’t doin’ that…” He said with a slurring voice once more.
“I can give you a bit more money, wouldn’t that be worth it?” Foster asked with a wry smile, but the dwarf just shook his head, “I don’t care about money, lad…” As he was speaking, the dwarf was searching for something under the table, and quickly pulled it up. It was a bottle clearly filled with alcohol, that he placed to his lips and started pouring down his throat like it was water.
And then, Foster grinned as he figured out a way to get this dwarf to do it without him having to spend too much, or really any, money.
“How about I bring you some of the best booze I know of, then?”