Chapter 4: Why Is It Always Them?

Finding an Inn was easy enough but a stray thought had Frank wondering, "When exactly was I supposed to go and report to the barracks? Damn duke didn't give me a time! Ah. Whatever. I'll read this book then head out."

Moving over to an empty table in the corner of the first floor, Frank sat down and placed the book in front of him. Before he could crack it open though, a lithe blonde woman strolled over to his table and introduced herself.

"Hello! Welcome to the Iron Fist Tavern and Inn. My name is Samantha and I'll be taking care of you tonight." She placed a menu down next to his book and stood with her hands behind her back and a smile on her face. Frank offered her a smile in return and quickly glanced at the drinks section.

"Uh, can I get one of your spiced honey wines? That will be all for now." Frank picked up the menu and looked it over once more before handing it to the server.

"Sure! I'll be right back with it." She practically floated away and before he could even blink she was back with a full goblet filled to the brim. "Here you are! That'll be two pieces."

She held out her hand and Frank placed two of the remaining three copper he had into her palm. "Let me know if you need anything else!" Frank gave a strained smile and watched as she tended to other guests. He wanted to be annoyed at her overly bubbly mannerisms but it was refreshing.

Taking a small sip of his wine, Frank finally turned to the first page of the book and began to read. It detailed many things, reminding him of a science textbook. Most of it was things he already knew. Boring stuff that would be important for his class. It all seemed like an introduction though because as he made it to the halfway point after skimming the beginning, Frank saw the good stuff.

Instructions on how to get skills related to his class without wasting his free skill, which mentioned the [Appraisal] skill. It then went into detail that if you didn't have a basic understanding of all the components you would not get the skill. Instead people were more likely to get [Identify] which while still useful wasn't as technical as [Appraisal] was.

Frank focused on the book and thought about everything that went into it. He remembered the process, very loosely though, thanks to a documentary he half watched while working on something for work. As he imagined the whole process and stared at the book a notification appeared to Frank's delight.

[[Appraisal lvl. 1] acquired]

[Intelligence is increased by +1]

Frank took a large gulp of his wine and had to wipe the smirk off his face. "It worked! That's one more free skill!" Calming himself, Frank continued to read. The next excerpt talked about [Chemistry], more specifically though the skill much like [Appraisal] was a superior version of [Identify], [Chemistry] was better than its related skill, [Alchemy].

To acquire that skill, all he needed to know was the theory of atoms and how they interacted with the world. It also explained the reason many people failed to acquire the skill. It required you to believe that atoms were real. The impossibly small building blocks, something that wasn't visible with the naked eye, made it difficult for people to accept it and in turn acquire the skill.

Another requirement to get the skill was to create a reaction of sorts and partially understand it. Instantly Frank thought about his favorite pyrotechnic, thermite. There were not a lot of chemical reactions Frank understood but the powder fascinated him enough that he learned about it specifically. He would need to visit a blacksmith for some rust and aluminum but he could consider this skill practicality in the bag.

Skipping past the rest of [Chemistry], Frank proceeded to the next section after another sip of his wine. This one talked about [Arcane Crafting]. From what it detailed, it was incredibly hard to get without assistance from another [Artificer], which it noted was rare. To make matters worse, the author seemed to think the [Mana Crafter] skill, Mana Crafting, was better on account it was simpler. Frank scoffed at that and ignored the rest of the section.

The next one explained that [Runic Smithing] was all but impossible to even acquire normally but it should not be taken since it required the class holder to invest into strength for the smithing half of the skill. Frank was interested, but he didn't want to invest in something that he might not even enjoy. Thankfully all of that made his decision easier.

Closing the book momentarily to focus, Frank downed his wine and stood up to stretch. He summoned his status and quickly noted the list of skills was reduced to three. Disregarding [Runic Smithing] and [Chemistry], Frank chose [Arcane Crafting].

[[Arcane Crafting lvl. 1] acquired]

With that accomplished, Frank had half a mind to head over to the barracks as was required of him. It was then he remembered that he had no offensive weapons or skills. He did have three spells he could pick though and with that idea in mind, Frank once again sat down and opened the book.

This time he flipped through all of the skills and found a section that detailed spells. The book was…disappointing for Frank. It only detailed a few of the spells on the list he could choose from and none of the later ones.

It was disappointing, but the book had already provided him with enough help on getting started. Once more opening his status Frank took a list of the offered spells, and noted it was exactly like the one in the book. Without deliberating too long, Frank selected three spells: [Sparks], [Flames], and [Shape Earth].

Although all three spells were on the lower tier of the offered spells, they all could deal damage and would also provide some utility. [Sparks] allowed the caster to summon the power of lightning. The range wasn't great, but the spell would stun, damage and eventually help with some of the ideas Frank had floating around his mind.

Choosing [Flames] was more self-explanatory. Plus, who wouldn't want to summon fire? Frank certainly did. Finally the choice of [Shape Earth]. It had so much utility it was outrageous. From dirt to even stone, Frank would be able to move, shape and oddly color a whole 125 cubic feet worth of material.

Instant fox holes, barricades, tunnels, caves, the possibilities were endless. Frank even had budding designs for a cave home. Once he finally escaped the financial clutches he was in. The thought that he owed this nation money for the summoning was ridiculous, but he was heavily opposed to becoming a criminal. It would be detrimental for his current level one self.

With the spells chosen, Frank decided that it was time to head over to and see what his quest would be. He hoped it would not be the gross and simple task of clearing out rats from the sewers but he also hoped it was not going to be something like slaying trolls.

"Maybe that damn [Hero] could fight some but I sure as hell can't." Frank grumbled to himself and moved to the outskirts of town where he had been directed to. Instantly Frank could hear the sounds of metal clashing. A brief glance at the yard showed men of all sorts of shapes and sizes fighting in what were probably friendly spars.

Frank ignored them and walked to the main building where he was stopped by a guard. "Halt. What business do you have here, citizen?"

Frank's brow rose at that. "I've been sent by the duke to receive a mission." The guard seemed to think for a second before nodding and motioning for Frank to follow.

He did, and entered the barracks. Instantly Frank was hit with the stench of sweat. His face scrunched up and he held his breath as they passed rows of bunks and eventually entered another hall. From there they moved to an open door. The guard knocked then stood at attention.

"Captain Whitman, Private Brown reports! This individual was sent by the duke for a mission." The captain in question waved his hand dismissively and the guard saluted, turned and marched off. Frank entered the room without being prompted and glanced at the man before him.

He was short, roughly five foot tall and had a cleanly shaved head. His face was marred by a scar that went diagonally across his face through one of his eyes. Now that he paid close attention, Frank realized the eye was white.

Before he could even attempt to introduce himself, the captain spoke first. "I never understand why the duke sends greenhorns to me for 'missions.' He knows almost none survive." He eyed Frank's reaction and smirked when he didn't see him react. Frank had tried not to think about that being a possibility, but he would be lying if he said he thought it wasn't possible.

"Sounds good to me." Frank forced the words out, a vein threatening to pop out of his forehead. Captain Whitman chuckled at the obvious rage boiling within Frank and looked around the room for a stack of papers. Once he found it he began to glance through them until he found one he liked.

"Have you ever killed a goblin?" The captain smiled and slammed the parchment onto the table showing off the task at hand. Frank looked somewhat relieved but the captain could still see the tension in his shoulders.

"Let's hope they're dumber than they look." Frank took the paper into his hands and stared at the contents after finishing the document he couldn't help but let slip another curse. "Oh fuck me."