Having left the black market behind, Arlo and Remi embarked on a quest to procure a sword for Arlo.
They navigated the bustling streets, and Arlo bombarded Remi with a flurry of questions that had been brewing in his mind since their visit to the black market.
"Who exactly is this Chief Jacob? And how is he acquainted with the black-market dealer and the blacksmith we're about to meet?" Arlo queried.
"Jacob Morris, or as you know him, my chief, was once a member of the twelve council members," Remi elucidated.
Arlo's eyes widened in surprise, "A council member! Him!! Then why is he now part of your security firm?"
Remi shrugged, "He was the Outliner of the 12th seat for a brief period of two years. Rumor has it that he was defeated by a challenger, after which he retired and joined our firm."
The Council of Innovators & Mages is an assembly of twelve members.
Five Mages, Five Innovators, and Two Outliners make up the council.
The process of selecting representatives for each seat varies among Mages and Innovators - some are chosen through votes, some seats are inherited, and some even result from clan wars.
The seats for Outliners were introduced only 50 years ago; before then, there were only ten seats.
The representatives for the two Outliner seats are chosen through a battleground. Challengers fight amongst themselves, and the final challenger battles the current seat member. This event takes place every 5 years, with both seats being challenged simultaneously.
Their conversation continued as they arrived at a narrow, cramped alleyway nestled between buildings and leading underground, where the faint sound of drainage could be heard.
"Are we in the right place?" Arlo asked, looking around skeptically.
"I believe so. Let's proceed," Remi gestured for Arlo to follow him.
Upon entering, they were greeted by the unpleasant smell of drainage. Arlo crinkled his nose in distaste but followed Remi, albeit with doubts about the likelihood of finding any weapons in such a place.
"Do you really think we'll find quality weapons in this dump?" Arlo grumbled.
Remi chuckled, "Haven't you read any novels? Most of the time, the stores that sell unique weapons are hidden in places just like this."
They continued down the path until they reached an underground passage. Despite Arlo's hesitation, Remi led the way, and Arlo reluctantly followed.
"Welcome, Chief Jacob mentioned you would be coming. I'm Shaman," a bald man with a small beard, dressed in brown clothing, greeted them.
"Apologies, but you can't bring your weapons beyond this point. Could you hand them over to us? We'll ensure they're kept safe," the shaman requested. Left with no other option, they complied.
Arlo muttered to Remi, his tone laced with irritation, "These weapons better be worth it."
The narrow hallway they walked through was initially filled with nothing but dust. However, as they ventured further, they began to see discarded weapons - swords split in half, broken shields, and rusted swords, all covered in cobwebs. It looked more like a dumping ground for old weapons than a blacksmith's workshop.
Arlo surveyed the scene, questioning the blacksmith's craftsmanship.
"Ulysses, these are the people Chief Jacob sent," the shaman announced, his tone markedly different from when he first greeted them.
Arlo and Remi turned their attention to the man the shaman was addressing.
A middle-aged man with a rugged ginger beard, reeking of alcohol and clad in a mix of red and black armor, sat behind a table. Arlo could tell that the armor was heavier than the man himself. Arlo checked his status and it prompted,
[Ulysses ?]
'What's with these question marks? Why does it keep showing up?' Arlo mumbled.
"Tell these bastards to get lost; I'm busy," the bearded man growled, struggling to stand but repeatedly falling. He tried to stand again and again, then gave up and sat down.
Arlo watched this and thought, 'Does this old man realize we can see him?'
Remi suggested, "It seems we've come at a bad time; we should come back later."
The shaman interjected, "Could you please wait here for a moment?"
After asking them to wait, the shaman approached the old man, smacked the back of his head, spun his chair around, and slapped his face a couple of times, admonishing,
"You bastard, drop the drunk act. It's been ages since we had some decent food; I'm sick of canned food. We finally have a customer. If you don't attend to them, I'll tell the chief you sent them away."
The shaman returned to Arlo and Remi with a broad smile on his face, "Now our blacksmith Ulysses will see you. He's cleared his entire schedule for you. Please, have a seat."
Arlo thought, 'Do they really think we didn't see what just happened?' He added irritably, 'Remi, you bastard, you've landed us in a mess. If anything happens to the weapons we left with them, I swear I'll make you pay.'
The shaman fetched two chairs from the corner and placed them in front of Ulysses. Arlo and Remi took their seats while the shaman stood behind Ulysses.
"What kind of swords are you guys looking for?" Ulysses asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
Arlo responded with unexpected enthusiasm, "I need a sword for fighting monsters - one that combines speed and power. Can you show me something like that?"
"Since when did you start fighting monsters?" Remi asked Arlo, puzzled.
"Ah, well…" Arlo stuttered, then replied, "You know, if monsters ever invade our planet, I'll need a sword, right!"
Upon hearing Arlo's request, Ulysses retorted, "Sorry, all our swords are sold out. You can leave now."
"SMACK!"
The shaman, still smiling, said, "Apologies for his rudeness. Come with us; we'll take you to the workshop."
As the shaman hoisted Ulysses onto his shoulder, he gestured for them to follow him. He pushed open a wall door, revealing a dark dungeon floor reminiscent of the black market.
Arlo's doubts began to mount with each passing second, and suddenly, a bright light blinded him. What he saw next left both Remi and Arlo in awe.
[End of Chapter]