Shadow Clone Sorcery
62. Pricy Ports
The vessel had departed from Iskander with three unlisted passengers: the Elder Wyrmkin, her familiar, and Shae’heed. Then, Lukas’s arrival brought their numbers to four. Neither the captain nor his crew questioned it when they disembarked with another man whom they hadn’t met before. He appeared older, had short bristly hair, and walked with a hunch. His pallid skin, bright eyes, and many scars made him look like one of the locals. Lukas had named the new specialization Morph.
The clone walked with the party until the end of the dock before walking off in the opposite direction. He had his instructions to follow and information to gather. Shae watched the Morph go, expression and eyes hidden by his mask. He looked like an overweight healer who waddled as he walked—a result of the tail wrapped around his midriff. Several around them left no skin exposed, wearing leathers, furs, and an assortment of heavy clothing. The weather demanded it.
Snow crunched under Lukas’s feet as they entered the port town. Frigid temperatures assaulted Lukas, forcing him to pull his cloak closer. He had bought one from a crew member, but it wasn’t sufficient for the local weather. Lukas had purchased a few pieces before the auction, but the swift departure forced him to leave everything behind.
The Schwartzberg kingdom’s flag—a black, snow-peaked mountain with a pickaxe standing in front of it—flew atop the buildings. It was one of Iskander’s primary trading partners, and the port town served as an important point of transit. Carts of refined metal and magical stones awaited loading, and vehicles carried away food, fabrics, medicine, and other goods that the frigid climate struggled to produce.
Most of the local buildings were of stone and wood, and Lukas walked among them, wishing he had a clone out to scan their surroundings. However, it was the middle of the day, and Penelope had advised him to leave the ship with only one minion. Any more than that would be too suspicious and raise far too many questions. Since she had the most experience—on Fracture, at least—he deferred to her better judgment.
It felt like walking through a Viking village—or at least how Earth TV shows used to depict them. The buildings were tall and triangular, with the roofs extending all the way to the ground. A giant longhouse sat at the center of town, and some of the larger buildings looked like upside-down galleys and freighters. The streets were mostly slush, and Lukas almost fell on his bottom half a dozen times. He stuck close to the walls for support.
Penelope set off to purchase supplies and arrange transport to the Gray while he focused on building a weather-appropriate wardrobe. A furrier met most of his needs. Lukas started off with fur-lined boots, alchemically treated for the elements. The bottom was rough and grooved.
“Frozen lakes. Mountainsides. Black ice. Oil slicks. You’ll never slip.” The vendor bent the sole, demonstrating its flexibility. Lukas touched the material. It felt like blistered skin. It was thick but pliable. “I’ll be my reputation as an artisan of the Gray on it. If it ever fails you, just—”
He turned the man out and focused on what the journal had to say.
Masterwork Boots Of The Gray
The boots are made from the fur and leather of the rare Glacial Ram. The mountain goats are known for their ability to brave the worst blizzards and stay warm even when temperatures drop well below freezing. The fur naturally repels water while trapping heat, while the leather is tough and alchemically treated for extra durability. The sole is made using the paw pads of the elusive Tundra Tigers, capable of finding traction on almost any solid surface regardless of weather conditions.
“I believe you, but it's outside of my budget,” Lukas said. “I can’t afford to spend a hundred crowns on just a set of boots, especially when I need a full new wardrobe.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “Maybe, I’ll just try to power through until I reach the Gray. Perhaps the prices will be more acceptable there.”
“Are you mad, son?” The vendor frowned. “You’ll catch your death on the way. Don’t pinch pennies. It’s best—” He caught himself. “You said you need a full wardrobe? What if we pick out a full set or two? If your purchase is big enough, we could figure out a hefty discount.”
“I don’t know—”
“Whatever you do, don’t skimp on the boots. A cheap pair of Gray Boots at ten crowns might seem more affordable in the long run, but it will last a couple of seasons. The soul will wear down first, becoming uncomfortable. The grip won’t last long either. Soon afterward, the fur lining will come away, and the stitching will fall apart. Meanwhile…” He tapped the boots on the counter between them. “These should last you a lifetime. You can come back to me if it ever starts falling apart, and I’ll repair the boots free of charge.”
“Fine.” Lukas sighed. “But if the coats, trousers, and clothes cost just as much, I’m afraid I can’t afford anything in your store.”
“The quality and price of the rest isn’t as important,” the vendor said, nodding at the focus on Lukas’s right hand. “If you’re here for hunter, subjugation, or defense quests, most outfits won’t last long. It makes no sense to spend too much on them. In fact, I think it's best if you pick out the rest from our secondhand rack. Most are from customers who sold their warm clothing before sailing away for warmer climates.”
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“And the rest?”
“The dead. Not all violent or painful. Almost none of them are taken from corpses. Families sell the furs of their dead for funeral costs around here.”
Primarily, gold crowns, almost two thousand, occupied the journal’s storage space. Lukas had only two hundred on his person. The same amount had felt like incredible wealth just six months ago when he was still getting used to life on Iskander. He wanted to save his money for enchanted equipment and tools, and didn’t expect to spend as much on everyday wear.
Lukas had visited several stores, and the price points were similar. Iskander had much cheaper winter clothing, but the material and craftsmanship didn’t compare. He was sure all the merchants had inflated their prices to prey on desperate travellers who were fresh off the boats.
It took incredible self-control, but Lukas resisted buying the boots. Just because he had money to spare didn’t mean he was going to blow it. However, he needed to make it to the Gray alive.
“Unfortunately, your wares are well outside of my budget,” Lukas said, flashing the vendor an apologetic smile. “If I spend all my money here, I won’t have funds for living costs or combat equipment once I’m in the city.”
“Far too many overconfident travellers die en route to the Gray because of insufficient protection from the cold.” The vendor’s salesman's smile didn’t waver. “The weather here is harsh. Things change far too quickly and suddenly. The skies above might be clear blue, but your piss will freeze before it makes it to the ground.” He removed his right glove, revealing a ring finger amputated at the first joint. “Even we locals occasionally get caught out in the cold, and it costs us dearly. I was lucky. The insta-freeze only took a finger and a couple of toes.”
“Show me a decent cloak or coat. Maybe something good at trapping the heat. That’ll have to do until I reach the Gray.”
“That doesn’t sound like nearly enough,” the vendor commented, nodding to a corner where all the long garments hung. His eyes wandered to Lukas' shoes. “They’ll soak through within minutes on the road. You’re likely to slip and fall before long, too. I can sell you grips that should last a few weeks. Helga’s Alchemistry down the road stocks waterproof coatings that last a couple of days. The journey should take a week, but I’d get five vials to be safe. You never know when a storm might hit and leave you stranded.”
“I like that,” Lukas said, pointing at a leather coat with a fuzzy inlay and a thick furry collar. The material around the right breast appeared newer, like someone had patched it recently. “It looks nice and thick.” He patted the thick, ridged area around the spine. “Padded too.”
“It’s good, but I’m afraid it's not enough. You might need to invest in a warmer from the enchantress, too. But if you’re going to invest in one of those, you might as well buy a full set of gear from me.”
“I think this will do just fine.” It wasn’t that Lukas was underestimating the weather. He had other ideas. As long as he had his shard abilities, Lukas was sure he’d be able to brave the harsh weather.
The merchant showed Lukas to the grips afterward. They involved spike caps for either end of the boot. Chains connected them, running along the sides and the sole. Every section had a half-inch spike. The construction seemed sturdy, leaving Lukas to wonder how bad things were outside of settlements, and the man worried they wouldn’t last for more than a couple of months.
Lukas tested his idea once outside the store. He slipped into the alley behind the building and pulled out a piece of fire-magic-attuned iron from the journal’s storage space. It radiated heat, but it was barely enough to keep him comfortable. He fed it a strand of storm energy, more specifically, lightning magic, calling forth the smallest amount he possibly could. The task didn’t tax Lukas, and the drain was negligible. Meanwhile, the six-inch-long slab of iron grew hotter.
It was simple physics. Even though the material was a conductor, it had high resistance. Induction heaters on Earth use the same principle. Lukas had seen the technology in electric stoves, water heaters, electric blankets, and a bunch of other everyday things that he used to take for granted. Now, he hoped it would become his lifeline. The piece of iron found a home in one of the coat’s many inner pockets. The thick inner lining separated the iron from Lukas. He left it as is, as only time would tell if the idea worked.
The alchemist’s store was his next stop. Lukas barely got a sentence out before the woman behind the counter laid out a set of five vials of cloudy slime. “Divide one vial between your boots every three days. It will keep the moisture out and the leather fresh. The boots might feel a touch stiffer, but it's better than letting the damp in and then freezing toes, if not your entire foot, off.”
Much like the clothing vendor, she also showed off missing digits. Hers were limited to her right foot. It almost seemed like a rite of passage. He still had time before the planned meeting time with Penelope. So, he explored the other nearby shops, specifically the magic shop. The settlement didn’t seem to have separate buildings for enchanters, spell scripters, and other providers of arcane services. They all occupied an old longhouse that had seen better days.
The shards and essences got Lukas’s attention first. He wasn’t the only one. All travellers, specifically the armored and armed, seemed to gravitate toward them first. It was as he had expected. Vendors catering to the general public didn’t stock anything of note. Thanks to Empowered Clone II, Lukas would forever need to be on the hunt for shards. As a result, he’d need far more essences than the average person and would not just need to worry about upgrading his four pillars.
An Essence of Seeking caught Lukas’s attention. He couldn’t help but wonder whether it would sharpen Spellweaver’s sensory abilities. Lukas didn’t linger for long and moved on swiftly. At four hundred crowns, it was well within his reach. However, he had his mind set on the Essence of Arcane Shaping.
The shards were all reasonably weak. If the ritual circle hadn’t burned, he would’ve considered the Shard of Reinforcement. It would give the clones body reinforcement abilities, if not magic. However, Biomancy covered the need.
As Lukas moved on to the enchanted goods, he couldn’t help but wonder how Morph was doing. His task was far from safe. Since the clone’s face didn’t match Lukas’s, they could afford to take more risks.