Thea checked on the fallen [Mage] while Raith moved to sit cross legged on the floor in front the distraught daemon. The little creature’s expressive body language was so similar to Crinkle’s he found himself missing the little pest and Vandamir again.

  “We’re very sorry for your loss.”

  The daemon dropped its defensive posture and cocked its head to the side. Raith took that as a good sign and continued.

  “My mentor back home was a gnome, and he had a daemon that you remind me of a lot. I know how much they mean to each other, and how hard this must be for you. Would it be alright if we gave your master a proper burial? I promise we will be respectful”

  It seemed to consider this for a long minute before nodding. Now came the hard part, and Raith felt even more awful saying the words out loud than he had thinking them.

  “Some of his equipment may help our team a great deal. We would like to make sure it doesn’t go to waste. Would that be alright?”

  They could really just take the stuff and the daemon couldn’t stop them, but they were thinking feeling creatures and Raith felt that would be incredibly cruel to do while it was grieving.

  It scurried up onto the gnome’s chest and pointed down at the silver amulet. Then the daemon shook its head and waved its arms horizontally for no, absolutely not.

  “Don’t take the amulet? Are the other things ok?”

  The little shadowflame pointed at the cloak and nodded yes, then repeated the gesture on the rings, pouches, wand and shoes. Raith suspected this was also confirmation on exactly which items were magical. They hadn’t noticed the shoes and wand before, so that was a nice bonus. It then walked back over to the amulet and repeated the emphatic ‘no’ gestures.

  Raith looked over to Nyhm.

  “I’m fine with that. What do you think?”

  The elfling shrugged.

  “I don’t care if we bury it all. But leaving the amulet is definitely the right thing to do.”

  Tolliver’s voice rose from behind him.

  “What do you mean leaving the amulet? It may be a powerfully enchanted item. We’re not leaving the amulet.”

  He looked over his shoulder to see the pale noble sitting up and putting away what was left of an expensive healing potion. His words caused the daemon to resume its defensive posture and raise its little claws in the air. The sneering disdain of Tolliver’s voice struck Raith in exactly the wrong way at that moment, and he snapped back.

  “Be respectful or get out. This is not up for discussion.”

  The [Mage] recoiled at the rebuke, clearly not accustomed to being talked to like that. Raith held his eyes until the man flushed and looked away.

  “Very well. It simply seems like a waste. But you are the captain, after all.”

  Turning back to the daemon, Raith leaned forward.

  “You have my word he will be interred with the amulet. I won’t allow anyone to take it.’

  Having the creature agree didn’t make removing the gnome’s gear feel any less distasteful. They set it neatly on the table to be examined more closely after the former owner was buried.

  There was only one shovel, and the team dug in shifts until the grave was deep enough they could be sure it wouldn’t get disturbed by animals. Even Tolliver took a turn, miraculously not complaining about the dirty, difficult work.

  When they were done, Raith gently carried the remains into the hole and climbed out to stand with the others. The team had gathered up little scraps of fabric and plants and bits of every color they could find out here to place inside the grave. It was no prismatic shawl, but it was the best they could manage. The daemon shook with grief, and one didn’t need to hear its sobs to recognize the depths of its sorrow.

  He recalled a gnomish saying Vandamir often told him that seemed appropriate now.

  “May your hands stay busy, your mind curious, and your journey filled with marvels.”

  The daemon redoubled its shaking, and clutched Raith’s leg for support. He reached down and patted its head and it looked up at him in desperate grief.

  “I’ll fill this back in,” Nyhm said gesturing at the grave. “You all go examine the items. I don’t know anything about that stuff anyways.”

  Raith crouched down and looked at the shadowflame daemon.

  “Do you want to stay out here while my brother works or come inside with us?”

  In response, it scrambled up onto his shoulder and nuzzled his face. He stood up, giving the thing another gentle pat.

  Welp. I guess I have a daemon now.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Everyone’s eyes widened in surprise as they felt a rush of weft that marked a completed [Quest].

  “Woah,” Thea said. “You learn that [Quests] are the fastest road to levels, but it doesn’t really sink in till you’ve had a proper one.”

  Tolliver looked at each of them in surprise and his face reddened.

  “I received nothing.”

  Thea gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.

  “The Weaver’s Whim. You have to admit, you weren’t exactly a big help.”

  The blushing [Mage] didn’t reply, striding past her back into the cabin.

  After a quick check of his pattern, he saw he’d finally got to level three in [Rare Tome Procurement Specialist], which meant a new [Skill]. He was looking forward to sorting that out later.

  For now, there was loot to check.

  No one had any [Skills] for identifying enchanted item, but Tolliver had a Wand of Identification with a eight charges. The [Mage] had shown only a moment of reluctance before agreeing to share the precious magic. Raith couldn’t decide if the uncharacteristic generosity was due to the earlier tongue lashing or guilt over his behavior.

  “I appreciate the help, Tolliver. We’ll give you first pick of the items.”

  The [Mage] turned his nose up as he pulled out the slender piece of wood.

  “I was going to get that anyways if you recall.”

  Raith just shut his eyes and refrained from responding.

  I suppose he’s still Tolliver.

  “Furthermore, I wish to see the function of these items myself and there is no practical way to do so whilst excluding you all.”

  He just can’t fucking help himself.

  The non-magical pouch was full of coin, which they divided up evenly amongst the group. It also contained the gnome’s Thieves Guild medallion, and Raith tucked that away in his bandoleer to return it next time he visited a guildhall.

  The obvious guess that the magical pouch was a bag of holding proved correct, and it was agreed not to waste a wand charge identifying the item. They found the extradimensional space was surprisingly empty, which was a bit of a disappointment but made dividing things up a simpler task.

  Tolliver’s wand was of the sort that high-end merchants used for their merchandise. When a charge was expended it produced a finger-sized scroll that detailed the name and basic function of the item. Raith recalled seeing these scrolls in shops, but hadn’t realized this was where they came from.

  As they were produced, the team passed around the scrolls for everyone to read.

  ‘Night’s Armor Cloak: Provides concealment in shadow and darkness. Subtly deflects blows to protect the wearer. Most effective against bludgeoning attacks. Minimally effective against piercing attacks.’

  ‘Lightstep Shoes: Provides significant bonus for moving silently, and the wearer will not set off traps that are triggered by being stepped upon. Small bonus to agility.’

  ‘Ring of Quick Talking: Mild charm effect that assists wearer in brief negotiations such as haggling or talking your way out of trouble. Has negative impact on extended negotiations.’

  ‘Signet of Fire Resistance: Reduces all fire damage by two-thirds.’

  ‘Ring of Jumping: Triples the distance of the wearer’s jumps.’

  ‘Dawn Maple Wand: Enables additional runephrase layer, adds small amount of Mental Strength to aether manipulation.’

  Nyhm came in just as Tolliver was reaching for the cloak. Raith raised a hand.

  “Hold on a second. Nyhm hasn’t even had a chance to see what everything is.”

  The noble paused and frowned.

  “What difference does it make? I have first the pick.”

  “Fine, take the cloak.”

  No one else would probably want it anyways. Raith couldn’t wear a cloak with his fighting style without getting hopelessly tangled up, and Nyhm wouldn’t want it for similar reasons. Maybe Thea, but he already saw how her eyes lit up at that signet of fire resistance.

  After giving Nyhm a chance to look everything over, they drew straws and came up with a picking order of Thea, Raith and Nyhm, then back around to Tolliver. Anything no one wanted would get sold and the gold evenly split.

  As predicted, Thea grabbed the signet. She smiled as she slipped it on and threw Raith a wink.

  “Nothing like taking a fireball to the back of the head to make a woman appreciate some fire resistance.”

  Raith grabbed the ring of jumping and had to stop himself from running right out the door to leap around the wildlands in the middle of the night.

  He gave his brother a nudge.

  “You’re turn.”

  The elfling stared at the equipment without moving.

  “I’m good.”

  Tolliver rolled his eyes.

  “How could anyone not be excited about getting magical items?”

  Nyhm shifted uncomfortably and looked at the ground.

  “I’m already on my third braid. You guys need this stuff a lot more than I do.”

  “Excellent. Then it becomes my turn.”

  Raith whacked the noble’s hand as he reached for the pile.

  “No, we’re not skipping anyone. Nyhm, why don’t you take the shoes. While you don’t stomp around like a buffalo, stealth isn’t a strong suit of yours either. It would be a benefit to all of us if you used those.”

  They were probably the best magical item in the lot, and Raith had been relieved that the mage hadn’t made that his first pick. Nyhm considered for a moment, then reluctantly grabbed the shoes and slipped them on.

  Tolliver wound up taking the wand as well, which was a surprise to no one. Now that Raith thought about it, the noble probably snatched up the cloak first knowing that no one else would want the wand. It was irritating, but a sensible strategy.

  Thea also wound up with the pouch of holding, and no one wanted the last ring so it got stashed to sell off later. The satyr pulled out her new bedroll and eyed the quality appreciatively.

  “Alright then. I’m getting some sleep.”

  Tolliver followed suit, and Raith got out bedrolls for him and his brother to just lie down and relax for a while after a long day. And most of the night, for that matter. Before heading to his library for some actual sleep, he pulled up his pattern, and immediately saw a problem.

  He needed to free up an unbraided slot to stitch [Lesser Mental Endurance], but there was nothing to upgrade.

  [Read Magic] was a prerequisite for several [Skills] he needed, but it didn’t upgrade into them. If [Subversive Reader] upgraded into anything, he didn’t know what it was. Same with [Decipher Script].

  So [Bookbinding]? That felt like such a waste. It had been the second [Skill] he ever stitched, and he’d only done it so that Vandamir would tolerate him hanging around the shop more. While it had proved useful for some extra coin and a few favors, repairing old tomes wasn’t exactly something he wanted to do for a profession. He could always stitch a lesser [Skill] in an higher braid’s empty spot, but that seemed like even more of a waste.

  Maybe the Lexicon of Exalted Patterns has some ideas.

  Activating [Life in Staccato] and [Mnemonic Library], he stepped inside his mind and relaxed.

  It really had been a long day, so he decided to get some sleep before hitting the books. He lay down on the soft couch and was asleep almost the moment he closed his eyes. Raith awoke refreshed and alert from a riot of vivid dreams.

  He kept his eyes closed a moment to try to hold on to the memories but, the harder he focused the further they slipped away. He was again struck how strange they were after so many years of dreamless nights and wondered why they returned in this place.

  Then he opened his eyes and screamed.

  Curled up on his chest like a kitten was a little black ball of flame. Raith leapt to his feet, dumping the daemon rudely onto the sofa. He leveled an accusatory finger at the creature.

  “How the threaded fuck did you get in here?!”

  Thanks for reading! Don't forget to the story.