Notice 1.6

Novice 1.6

After leaving the company of the bum he had healed with the information he had asked for, Thomas hastened his step somewhat for a while. He looked for another alley, this one suitably empty and abandoned. He had talked to the bum in his tall blond man looks with a mere white mask on his face, and dressed in a fine suit. Meaning the man would probably remember the dress, the blond hair and the white mask. Of those three, only the white mask would remain, and even that would not be worn for now.

Dismissing the glamour he had hid under for a fair while already, Thomas let out a short sigh while scratching the back of his neck. Luck had not been on his side, and he had fallen into the trap of thinking that he was some form of Isekai protagonist. He did not have some absolutely ridiculous protagonist's luck and charm at his side, and while he had power and potential for a lot more he was quite vulnerable here.

Worse, he had no allies, no real resources to call upon, and any immediate plans he had thought of were falling apart. It was not off to a good start at all. If he really had to, he would consider going to the Protectorate and coming clean about his powers. They would likely take him in though wary of him for not telling them everything from the start. He did consider simply stating it took some time for his additional powers to actually show themselves, and he was still learning how to use them anyway.

However, that was the last resort in his opinion. He would be exposed to Cauldron and Coil, and Protectorate's protection would come with strings attached. He might be transferred away, and he had a nasty feeling that would be bad, seriously bad actually. He needed to stay in Brockton Bay for most part, he had little idea of what all went on beyond it after all, and as bad as it might get in Brockton Bay, he'd rather deal with the devil he knew somewhat than the complete unknown of the world beyond.

"What do you think you're doing here white-boy?"

Thomas looked up from having fallen in thought while walking, realizing he was facing a group of four young Asian men, two of who were holding beer bottles and all of whom were looking more than a little drunk. He noted several more empty beer bottles and cans nearby, as well as a pair of empty bottles of stronger drinks left about, as well as a set of two cases that were being emptied by the group.

"You don't look like you belong here."

The apparent spokesman of the group stepped up to him sneering at him, before pulling a knife out of his pocket and holding it up before his face.

"How about you hand over your wallet and walk away, and we'll forget we saw you? Good deal for you, normally we'd beat you and take your money anyway."

Thomas was not amused at all. He called upon his power, and gesturing at the man's face, muttered a word half-audibly. "Slumber."

The thug dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, while the other three seemed surprised. One of them shot on his feet, looking a bit panicked and about to shout while other two were not quite sure what had happened.

"Slumber." Thomas said this while gesturing at their group, satisfied to see the three collapse, two of them just keeling over where they sat but the last one falling on his face dropped something that caught his attention.

Snub nosed revolver. The guy had actually been pulling out a gun on him. That had been close.

Still, it was an opportunity to solve a few problems at least. Looking through the pockets of the four thugs, he was rewarded with a set of three wallets and a money clip. He had no use for their cards, he wasn't about to try and use those, so he simply took their money and added it to the money clip. He left their wallets with them. He did note that two of the thugs had broken their phones falling over, one was refusing to start but didn't look damaged, possibly just out of power, and the last one, well the last one worked.

The phone wasn't even locked thankfully. He noted a few names and numbers in the phone book, but none of them really important to him. It did have access to the net though, so he briefly looked up a phone number to the BBPD, having left the gun and the couple of small bags he had found on the ground near the thugs, not wanting to touch the pills in them.

"Brockton Bay Police Department, how can I help you?" He heard the polite if tired voice of the man on the other end of the line.

"Hey, ah, I was just walking home through the docks area, taking a shortcut, when this group of thugs decided to try and attack me, demanding my wallet. They had been drinking and possibly on some other stuff too, but when one of them pulled a gun the guy twitched and fell over. Someone yelled cape, and then the other three collapsed. I wanted to report this in, but I'm not sticking around." He then proceeded to give them the address from the street signs.

He heard a voice telling him to just wait on the line and that police would be over soon, but he closed the phone and then turned it off. Looking around he grimaced. His fingerprints were on the wallets, even if he doubted he was in the system he couldn't know if they'd taken his prints at the hospital, they had identified him as a cape after all.

Thomas was pretty sure there was some magic to erase such simple evidence, but what was it. Cantrips, he quickly realized. The simple little magical tricks, counterpart to the divine magic's orisons. He had been so excited to get his hands on magic he had paid them very little attention.

He wasn't sure how long he had before the police would show up though. Grimacing, he took a seat nearby, focusing his mind briefly. The attempt to access the powers again took less effort than the first time around, and less time too. Still, what he had already picked was locked in place and unchanging for now, but the cantrips were still free. Four and four, he could pick four of each and use them pretty much at will.

For now, he only needed one. Prestidigitation. A simple spell with various uses, but the most important one at that time was the simple cleaning it could do.

Using it briefly on the objects he had touched, along with the thugs themselves, he used the cantrip to clean things up a little before moving to leave, careful to leave the gun and the pills in open view on the ground.

On one hand, he had just pissed off a few drunk ABB bastards, on the other, he now had a bit over ninety bucks in hand. Enough for a room for the night as long as he didn't mind it being somewhat crappy. If was off-season, but he didn't have a prior reservation, so he figured fifty bucks would be possible, maybe sixty.

It wasn't a sustainable state but getting one night's rest and having a chance to think things over a bit better would help. As it was, he had been stumbling along and that was a good way to get killed. Asking about the city from the thug had resulted in several 'I don't know' answers, and some useful information, but plenty of useless stuff as well.

He knew a few motels he might consider, but at the same time he was somewhat suspicious of the bum.

For all he knew they could be fronts for the thugs and he might end up attacked in the night, rolled over for cash and his organs harvested. Then again, he might just be getting paranoid.

There was also the option of heading somewhere else, but as quality went up the price went up as well.

Moving along he considered his options for a moment, giving a bit of thought to two other groups in the city he had not really given much thought to before. One of them was going to New Wave, and he already owed Panacea for helping him out anyway. Though that would mean being openly unmasked at least in his public persona. Besides, that household held a lot of tension, and he wasn't sure they'd be too eager for new members anyway. It did seem their movement had dried up to a family-business and that was it.

The other option was the group of mercenaries that lived at Palanquin. He didn't think he'd want to become a permanent member of Faultline's gang, but the possibility of some shelter in exchange for helping them out or offering to use his abilities to their benefit was something to consider.

Even just going by the healing ability, he had no doubt that Faultline could bring in people who didn't want to go to a public hospital where Panacea was, and would appreciate his currently somewhat limited magic helping speed up their recovery time, or outright fixing them up good as new depending on the circumstances.

The thing was it would also mean he'd be picking sides and going on the more villainous side of the line at that. Faultline's group were no angels, but they seemed to know not to cause too much trouble in the city itself, taking jobs outside of the city for most part.

He frowned quietly while considering things, before finally deciding to give it a shot. He'd head on over, make a mention of it, and see if it paid out. If not, he'd have provoked some additional attention on his person, if it did, then he might be able to acquire some cash, some shelter, and possibly temporary bit of protection.

Just using his healing magic on people willing to pay a modest sum should let Faultline gather a bit of money off of him and help him build up a bit of capital. Once he was able to use stronger spells and actually boost someone up further it might be his little boosts could come in handy for the group. Though with their limited duration it would be somewhat limited still.

He briefly wondered whether or not it would be possible to do any work on item creation, scrolls or potions. He doubted he could get his hands on materials though, but the thought did provoke some interesting questions. Mostly it had been noted as just money for the materials and the spells to make the effects he wanted happen, but what exactly was that money spent upon, that was not something he was sure about.

Thinking of scrolls, he got a faint impression of needing to use either old parchment, vellum, or high quality paper. As for ink, he needed to have access to good quality ink, which was actually easier in modern age than in the past, meaning that wouldn't cost too much. Lastly, he needed time to focus, and to expend some magic while making the said scroll. Which would be practically worthless to anyone else. Because they would not be able to understand it, or trigger the effect.

He resisted the urge to groan at the way that idea crashed down, but it had opened the door to the possibility of perhaps having access to other magical items later. Enchanting things might not happen anytime soon, but if he did come up with a way to make potions, then buffs and healing potions would definitely draw some interest, possibly adding the classification of some sort of weird chemical tinker to any file that might exist on him.

Thomas decided to at least drop by to see if Palanquin was open, and if it was, if it was possible to have a small chat. He would have to be somewhat careful about it, but from what he'd understood Faultline did not tend to screw people over after a deal was made. She might be more concerned for herself and her crew than others, but he didn't think she wanted to screw over a client unless they were a gods damn mad bomber intent on blowing up the entire city. She didn't want to taint her reputation as a professional.

Still, if it didn't work he'd get himself a room at a motel or some cheap hotel, and call it a night. Tomorrow should be easier with more places open. It would also let him pick a new set of spells if need be, sleep and disguise self had come in handy already, and cure light wounds seemed like something he would not mind keeping as a regular pick for the limited amount of slots at his disposal.

Author's Note: Alright, so, last chapter ended with a short bit on Merchants. I already had the idea for what was going to happen next, so it could be considered a touch of red herring, or foreshadowing for future. Either way, the main character is not making the brightest choices and is still clueless of the true extent of threat he is going to be living under. His 'grace period' of time before the hunters arrive will wear out sooner than he'd like.

I'd like to note that a Cleric/Wizard alone could prove very powerful in due time as a gestalt, if they aren't slowed down by splitting their attention to two classes one at a time but growing in power simultaneously. Add to that the fact the CYOA did not specify Arcane or Divine Magic as particular class, but as a whole. Meaning other spell lists like what Bard or Druid might know are also out there. But on the flip side, even with Gamer's faster learning rate, and Apprentice's addition of the archives, getting to higher level spells takes some time and effort. Time that he does not have, effort which means risking his neck which he doesn't seem to consider too pressing need for right away.