An hour and a half later, washed, mostly healed but the puckered scar on his abdomen and some lightning marks tracing across his body, Arthur sat down beside Dovgrey. The Tinker had managed entry and even the renting of the only rooms in the village for the pair, a major boon as far as Arthur was concerned.
But now it was time to get his reward.
“Terima kasih,”Arthur thanked Dovgrey as he took the cup of water from the other. He looked sad for a moment that it wasn’t beer or even juice, but you took what you received and were grateful. Placing the cup down after drinking, he raised an eyebrow at the still silent Tinker.
“Impatient. We should eat first,” Dovgrey temporized. “I already ordered, you know.”
Arthur opened his mouth to protest, then shut it, before flashing a grin. “Sure, I’ll makan. Especially if you’re buying.”
“I am.”
Smiling, Arthur sipped at the tea, casting inwards for more information. This chance to talk to a Tower resident, it could be useful. There was, of course, a lot of information out there. Books and books about the Tower, the residents, the special place those who worked for them held. A lot of details… but the problem was, actually verifying that information was a pain and a half.
More than one scandal had broken out, when information was proven to be untrue. If you trusted the self-named celebrity journalists and Climber autobiographic tell-alls, some of the reasons for the differences in information was entirely due to the Tower residents themselves passing on bad information. Others were obvious fakes, lies about where and when Climbers went.
So much, like today’s meeting, would be unverifiable. Which also meant that any information he might glean from Dovgrey might be tainted too. Which then led to the question of whether it was even worth digging…
Nevermind…
“You’re thinking hard.” The Tinker said, those big, round and soulful eyes blinking at Arthur. “About what to ask me?”
“About what’s coming for dinner.” Arthur grinned. “I’m Malaysian after all. Hoping there’s a good laksa or curry. Or rendang. Kuih…” He said the last word dreamily.
The snort Dovgrey gave was skeptical, but he didn’t call Arthur out on it further. Not that he could prove it, and now that he was thinking of food, his stomach let out a loud rumble. A slow, amused blink, as the turtle stared at Arthur’s loud midsection.
“What do you eat?” Arthur asked curiously.
“Many things. My favorite is jussap.”
“What’s that?”
Leaning forwards, Arthur questioned the other, learning about the cuisines of the race and Tower residents. The fact that he was genuinely interested in the foods that Dovgrey enjoyed, which were mostly vegetarian, probably helped. It also, often, led to random discussions of other species that lived in close proximity to the man.
“So, you don’t cook at home then?”
“Food and cooking is not necessary. You know that.”
“Yeah, but…” Arthur trailed off, understanding what the man meant. If he lived in the Tower as what was implied, on a floor in an Advanced or higher Tower, it made sense that restaurants were much less prolific. Even then… “that kind of boring lah.”
“Cheap, though.” Dovgrey waved a hand at the food that finally arrived, the few villagers – Arthur had counted about two dozen of these stick-figure humanoids that were a cross between a mantis and a human – tottering over with the plates held in hand. “I eat when I’m working.”
“Working, eh?” Arthur grinned. “Company expense account?”
A slow, languid nod. He clasped hands together, one on top of another and bowed to the mantises and after a moment’s hesitation, Arthur copied the motion. He eyed the food skeptically as Dovgrey dug in. At least the bowls of rice were normal, but the other items – insect-like meat types fried up, vegetable and a hotpot that contained mushrooms and other items, including what might be tofu – had him looking a little skeptical. Mostly because the colours were lurid purples, oranges and greens.
“Nice.” Seeing his host digging in, Arthur followed suit, marveling at the unexpected surprise of the meal. Not just that it tasted good, but expectations were thrown out of context as dishes he thought might be sweet or hot or spicy were instead sour or bursting with umami or just familiar. The hotpot, in particular, became his new favorite, the gravy lavished over the rice.
For a time, discussion fell to the wayside, though occasional words were passed between the pair as Arthur savoured the meal. Only when the pair had cleared out the very generous meal and the various plates and utensils stores away did Dovgrey sit forwards, hands clasped.
“Your reward.” Dovgrey said.
“Yes…” Sudden apprehension clutched at Arthur, forcing him to breathe through the tension in his stomach.
“I could let the Tower decide. Or, I could do it for you.” Limpid eyes blinked, slowly. “Which would you prefer, Climber Arthur?”
Trust that the other had his well wishes at heart, that he had not annoyed the creature or insulted them? That it was, in the end, on his side? Or trust in the silent and impartial judgment of an unknown system? It would weigh many things and come up with a reward, but there was no guarantee it would be personalized.
No guarantee that what would come from Dovgrey would benefit him either. There were enough stories out there where rewards were decreased, changed or otherwise altered under the purview of the NPCs. They had a degree of leeway, more so when they made the choice the Climber’s.
“Go ahead,” Arthur said. If there was one thing growing up in Malaysia had taught him, it was that one just had to rely on people and goodwill. Favors and connections were how you got things done, whether it was an end run around endless bureaucracy and bribes or just locating the right mechanic.
“Then your present will be in three parts,” Dovgrey said. “First, tomorrow, you can pick from my wares. Second, I’ll do you a favor.” A small smile. “Three options. I fix and improve your armour.” Eyes drifted down Arthur’s torso, what with him wearing only the breastplate and groin cup at the moment. “Which does require some additional work.”
“Best I could afford. Or they do,” Arthur said. The minor improvement to durability and cleaning that had been done weren’t great, he knew that. But beginner human crafters were just that, after all.
“Not the best I can do." A slight jerk of its head, then a shake of his head. "I can also replace your underlayer instead, if you look tomorrow."
"Okay."
"Next, I can upgrade your spear." A nod to the simple spear, the unenchanted weapon. "Give you an enchantment on it, something worthy of the material."
Arthur's eyes sparkled at the thought. He'd known the black spear could be so much more, but hadn't wanted to waste his money or the spear upgrading it cheaply. He had - vaguely - intended to either upgrade it at the end, before he left the Tower so that it was ready for the next Tower, or at the start of the next Tower on its first floor.
But now... well.
"Third?" he asked, hesitantly.
"A new technique." Dovgrey smiled at the spark of interest. "Something that will fill in a gap in your current skillset."
"A combat technique?"
No movement, not even a blink of the eyes. Arthur huffed out loud his disappointment, but Dovgrey was unrelenting, refusing to give him a hint. Which was all kinds of unfair if you asked him, but that was what he got asking the NPC to choose. As it was, though, this was a better offering than he could have expected.
After all, he was being allowed to choose, not just get something dumped on him.
The only question was what.