He really shouldn’t be surprised, Krow thought ruefully as he helped Sein take the Box out of its wheeled protective crate and lift it to the low table.

Of course a Trade Clan would have one. An Appraisal Box was useful in determining a workable value of items whose quality could not be immediately assured.

Like unpolished slug pearls.

Appraisal Boxes weren’t rare in Redlands. Every middling-wealthy shop had one.

His surprise was because, somehow, in Zuhskenar, it became incredibly difficult to find one at affordable prices. One of the sources of ingredients needed to craft the item went extinct, according to rumor.

That had been a surprise for the transmigrated players. There was no extinction in the game; resources respawned.

That they didn’t in Zushkenar had been a worry.

The revenue of crafter-players and hunter-players declined as conservation efforts started gaining traction among the transmigrators.

Greenhouses, husbandry, and hunting limits were instituted in areas that players controlled.

They were children of Earth, after all. A world where everyone knew that without concerted efforts and education in environmentalism, the planet beneath their feet would die.

That was years after the Quake though.

All that, didn’t matter at the moment.

Sein’s Box was one of the medium-sized ones, with a base area of a half-meter squared, and walls of sixty or so centimeters high.

It looked like a fancy crystal-glass terrarium, with a carved stone and metal mechanical base.

Six levers and three knobs on the base had Krow arching his brows. A Mafmet-created version then.

Einel, helping Sein adjust the levers to the setting for slug pearls, saw his surprise. She shrugged. “They were using it as a very pretty end-table.”

Sein said a farmer had it?

Yeah, it would’ve been a crime to leave it there.

Mafmet-created Appraisal Boxes were more accurate, especially sought after by crafters.

“Just set it to determine basic material rarity,” murmured Einel to Sein, pointing out the levers and knobs needed. “We can do a deeper analysis later.”

Sein nodded. Finally, they stepped back.

“It’s ready.”

Krow stepped up to the Box and poured the slug pearls into the Box’s bed. Even the river stones that the Inventory had separated out.

You never knew, after all.

Sein, vibrating with excitement, turned the knob that activated the device.

The pearls started to levitate.

“Oh, good,” murmured one of the people watching.

Determining material rarity divided the pearls into three levels. Everyone in the room peered at the indicators on the crystal-glass outer surface. Three bands of color showed on the glass.

Common, Uncommon, Rare.

There were larger and fancier Appraisal Boxes that could analyze the next levels, which were Unique, Epic, Legendary.

Krow still remembered the outcry when the designations were unveiled. The rarity designations were not really used in games these days, as most immersion games preferred to rely on the actual knowledge of the player to determine the value of an object – a more organic way of designating rarity.

RSI disagreed.

Apparently the old RPG standby rarity designations were ‘classic’.

Krow thought they were put in so the company and the game team could control the economy easier – for all the hype, defining the drax as a realworld virtual currency was a gamble, after all.

That aside, at each level of rarity, a further analysis of value could be made using the enchanter quality grades, generally A-grade at the top to F-grade at the lowest.

Since the Box was only set to determine only material rarity, there were only three levels that the pearls rose to.

When the analysis finished, and the bands of color turned translucent, the room let out a cheer.

Most of the pearls were in the Uncommon category, over a dozen in the Common, and amazingly there were two in the Rare tier.

Sein grinned smugly at the room, as he was alternatively hugged and patted on the shoulder.

Einel and one of the other girls started taking out the pearls and stones to place on labeled trays, separated by rarity.

“Aren’t you regretting not taking my offer of half for your information now?” Sein nudged Krow playfully.

Krow nudged back. “Definitely not.”

This early in the game, expanded storage items were priceless. Krow had three possible locations that hadn’t been plundered yet; wasn’t letting go of those quests for anything.

Sein nodded, with a theatrical sigh of understanding. “I wouldn’t, either. I guess I’ll have to find my own treasure maps.”

Krow tried not to wince. Like monster hunter, the profession ‘treasure hunter’ didn’t exist as a subclass. But with the indecent amount of ruins and hidden ruins in Zushkenar, there were many players who made a living by looting them.

But it was his duty as an elder to discourage such plunder into historical sites, destroying evidence of old civilizations.

Even if by becoming a monster hunter, he would likely be a party to the near extinction of multiple species of monster flora and fauna if he continued it and Enchanting as his professions after December next year.

Heh.

“Not a treasure map,” Krow refuted.

Technically one of the quests ended in a pirate cave, but sadly, no treasure. Just an eccentric enchanter and his search for perfection.

“Also,” he continued, “To become a respected treasure hunter, you have to study to become an Archaeologist first.”

Sein wrinkled his nose. “Archae-?”

“You did say you wanted to travel. Archaeologists are dedicated to exploration. You’ll see a lot of ruins up close.”

Archaeologist was a subclass dedicated to exploration of history and historical sites, and most of its higher level skills were focused on preservation and analysis. Being an Archaeologist definitely made it easier to loot ruins, but it also taught people how to safeguard sites and artifacts.

A lot of ancient and ‘lost’ knowledge turning up in the game came from Archaeologists.

“I already see a lot of ruins,” Sein huffed.

Right. Trade Clans traveled nearly non-stop.

Krow shrugged. “Just saying.”

He removed [Bundle of Feathers] from the Inventory and swished the fluffy ones playfully toward Sein, who laughed.

“Oh, I want to do those too!”

“You got feathers?” the younger ones lit up, more interested in the curling gold and red feathers than the rough stones that were just a mass of grey and brown blobs.

“Come see how to calibrate the Box to analyze feathers,” called one of the older girls, and the children clustered around her immediately, Sein included.

“You’ve dealt with the Kevaldau before,” murmured Einel, coming to stand beside him.

“No, not really,” Krow shrugged. He just had friends who had contacts in the Trading Clans.

All he knew about them was that they had a stubborn streak of individualism that meant the number of clans ebbed and flowed as names disappeared and returned through the generations, they were a very private people, they were fierce fighters and vicious merchants if they didn’t like you (even if they did like you, really), and their single greatest loyalty was to their Clans.

He knew he had to be invited before going anywhere, not to talk to people who hadn’t introduced themselves (the uncle only introduced himself by saying ‘I lead this caravan, the kid is my nephew’ and nothing else), and don’t interact with the children without permission from an adult.

Huh, that was probably more than most people knew.

The Kevaldau were really keen about keeping their secrets. Pointedly keen, even.

He only knew that much because he didn’t have a personal workshop even as a craftmaster in Zushkenar. He was still saving up, leasing space from Craftmaster Ortholian.

That was how he got to know the guy.

Ortholian liked to dump the frustrating naggy meetings with his trade contacts on him, the lazy cigarette-swilling sloth.

He had only put up with it for the lowered lease payments.

It was definitely not worth it. All the people seemed to want in the meetings was again and again the same things:

‘Is it done yet?’

‘How long until these orders from such and such place are done?’

‘Have you gotten to these items yet? I assure you, we can pay.’

‘Commoner, you irritate me with your lack of progress. If so and so whose title is higher than mine hadn’t recommended you, I would not be here in your dingy shop.’

And so on.

It was Ortholian who told him that ‘Kevaldau’ meant ‘of the valdau, the traveler’s wagon’. It was similar in pronunciation to the dwarviran word ‘kobaldos’ which was the term for an imaginary mischievous spirit in dwarviran folktales.

The dwarvir race was less vicious about keeping their culture to themselves, which is why people understood that ‘kobaldos’ meant ‘goblin’ in human tongue.

This was the reason the Trade Clans were known as ‘goblin caravans’ or ‘goblin clans’.

It wasn’t a polite designation.

There weren’t many Clan caravans west of the Urla Mountain Range, where most of the trade was regulated by the Dunmervin Trading Council headquartered in Duryndon Gate-city. The free nature of the Clans meant that few would work under the binding contracts needed to be able to work in any kingdom that was a member of the Trading Council.

The mechanics of trade east of the Urla Mountains was less centralized.

For them to be west of the mountains, the Garvan Clan was one of those who kept to the traditional Clan trade route that circled around the continent, taking two years to navigate, or they were one of the Clans who signed the Dunmervin Trade Covenants.

“No? I invite you to experience some of our customs then.”

Suspicious. That was suspicious wasn’t it?

He’d just spent a full minute thinking that most of what he knew about the Clans was that they were secretive and protective about it. Of course it was suspicious!

Still, Krow was getting a little claustrophobic. With the three older kids leaving their bunks and gathering around the table, the space got too crowded.

He followed Einel.

He regretted it.

The horse huffed at his hair.

Oh no.

She’d been talking about horse-riding?!