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Patrick Laplante
Patrick Laplante

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Pandora Unchained - B1C55: The Leather Worker

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The leatherworker was located three streets from the outpost wall, in an eight-block by eight-block section of the city reserved for metalwork, leatherwork, slaughterhouses, and other similar types of businesses.

There was a total of twelve leatherworkers in the city. Still, Gareth swore by Sanderson's Leather Outfitting and refused to see any others. "He only does custom work with one-star leathers or greater," explained Gareth as they approached the shop. "Moreover, he's a bone forging cultivator and two-star leather worker, so every piece he makes can be enchanted."

A small bell rang when they entered the shop. To the right, Sorin spotted racks of sample materials along with images of popular designs. Dozens of sample works were mounted on mannequins on the left side, showcasing leather armor, leather bags, shoes, and gloves, along with long leather coats made from cold-resistant leather and lined with the finest sheep's wool.

They casually looked around for a few minutes before a bald man with huge biceps and a pair of circular glasses walked out. "What can I help you with today, gentlemen?" asked the man. "Ah, it's you, Gareth. You should know that I'm so busy it's tough to make time even for a strapping young man like yourself."

"We can come back at a more convenient time if that works better for you, Mr. Sanderson," said Gareth.

"I happen to not be in a hurry with this specific piece, though I do have to finish the cut within the hour," said Mr. Sanderson, cutting him off. "So spare me the pleasantries and get right down to business. "I'll have to warn you, if it's not interesting, I have a waiting list six weeks long, and…" his voice trailed off as his eyes caught the rolled-up piece of leather Lawrence was holding.

"My word. What a beautiful specimen. Quick, set it on the workbench!" Lawrence could only do as he said, and he was quickly pushed aside by the man who now had a passionate glint in his eyes. "Yes, this is definitely a premium material compared to what I usually see here. The smell of it. The feel of it. I don't suppose you'd be willing to sell it to me? I'll definitely give you a satisfactory price."

He then adjusted his glasses and looked over their group of three in more detail. "You must be Lawrence Holt. Yes, there's no mistaking the beautifully sharp features on your face. You're much more handsome than your father."

"Um, thanks?" said Lawrence uncertainly.

"And you," said Mr. Sanderson, focusing on Sorin. A prickling sensation ran up Sorin's spine as he felt the man's powerful mana and spiritual senses gently probe him. "You have the scent of poison on you, though you look nothing like those despicable fellows I somehow deal with."

"Sorin was once a one-star physician," said Gareth, introducing Sorin. "But later, he recovered his cultivation, which had been crippled, and began cultivating poison."

"Sorin… Kepler, is it?" said Mr. Sanderson. "I heard about you. There are conflicting opinions about your choice of occupation. Still, knowing those old fogies from the Medical Association, you likely had no choice in the matter."

"Let's not talk about such things," said Sorin. "We're here to get three suits of leather armor made, one for each of us. Will that be an issue?"

"Hm…." The leatherworker looked from them to the leather, then took out careful measuring tools. He traced out patterns with chalk directly on the hide that avoided the most dreadful burns and cuts on the material. "It'll suffice. Barely."

"I hope they'll be enchantable with custom properties?" asked Gareth.

"Naturally," said Mr. Sanderson. "Anything else would be a waste. These are two-star materials, degraded as they are, and can definitely hold the most powerful enchantments at one-star grade. Now strip. All three of you." The three men exchanged uncomfortable looks and then began unbuttoning their shirts. "Not here, you savages! In the changeroom out back!"

He chased them over to a curtained-off area, where all three took off everything short of underwear. Mr. Sanderson entered just as they were finished and produced a tape that he used to measure their arms, legs, waists, and chests. "Yes, the materials should do quite nicely. Though I might have to substitute certain parts for four-horned demon ox leather. This material is a little too flexible and will need a bit of reinforcement. Have you decided on your enchantments? Or a certain design?"

The three of them exchanged a look. "We can pick our enchantments?" said Lawrence with mild surprise.

"Of course, you can pick your enchantments!" said Mr. Sanderson. "These are premium materials. You won't find better leather at the one-star grade." He walked over to a shelf and slapped three books down in front of them. "There. That should cover enchantments, style, and customizations. You three should look over these while I finish my cut. With clothes on, of course." He excused himself and retreated to the back of the workshop, where a pristine white hide lay stretched out over a cutting table. Sorin shivered as he saw the man run his hand on the hide's smooth surface as though it was a horse in need of soothing.

Lawrence grabbed the book on customizations, while Gareth grabbed the one dealing with style. Sorin was new to the topic of armor, so he leafed through the book on enchantments. Interesting, thought Sorin as he reviewed what was available. These aren't piecemeal enchantments but sets that confer compatible properties.

These properties tended to follow the description of demons. For example, the Three-Ringed Python enchantment which emphasized strength and flexibility. There was the Night Wraith enchantment that provided passive cover and even temporary phasing abilities – but only for three seconds and only against weapons and arrows, not physical obstructions.

"I'll probably be going for the Wind Blessed enchantment myself," said Gareth as he flipped through the style book. "The basic enchantment improves wind-based movement skills by 30% and base movement speed by 15%. The only problem is that you gain a weakness to fire-type mana."

"A small price to pay, in my opinion," said Lawrence. "Huh. That's an exciting way to hold throwing knives. And the pockets on this thing!"

"You'd think it's not a problem, but that's because you're not usually a target," said Gareth.

"Maybe," said Lawrence. I'll go with the one-star Night King enchantment. They'd clearly both researched this topic before coming here.

"Doesn't that improve your night vision and attack speed?" asked Gareth. "Why not prioritize evasion and movement speed?"

Lawrence snorted. "Who needs movement speed when it's much more useful to attack and kill something in a single exchange. Besides, it's not just night vision. It's predatory night vision, with predatory being the main aspect. It'll let me better identify enemy weaknesses and their remaining health and mana stores."

Sorin had never heard of these abilities before, so he flipped through the book with interest. Should he get something that could poison his enemies or retaliate, or something like Gareth's, to increase his mobility?

He took his time reviewing the enchantment book and completely ignored the style and add-ons book. Such things were more important to Lawrence, who needed to use tools in battle, and Gareth, who often had to track down or repel enemies.

Unfortunately, he couldn't come to a decision before Mr. Sanderson finally returned from the back. He smelled strongly of treating chemicals but seemed to have developed a resistance to such things.

"Have you all decided yet?" asked Mr. Sanderson.

"Night King Armor, Midnight Assassin Style, trapping and poison vial accessories," replied Lawrence. "I'd also like to be able to store a few throwing knives up my sleeves.

"Wind Blessed Armor, Deep Woods Warder Style," said Gareth. "Not additional accessors required. Minimalistic."

"Those are both good choices for a rogue and an archer," said Mr. Sanderson. "But are you sure you don't want something more flexible? Maybe something that will give you more flexibility with close combat armaments?"

"I'm not very good at swordsmanship, and I'd rather focus on my strong points," said Gareth, shaking his head.

"As long as you're aware," said Mr. Sanderson. "What about you, young man? You look a little lost."

"In truth, I have no idea what I should get," Sorin said, closing the book. "Do you have any suggestions?"

The man shrugged. "That depends on your role in combat."

"I'm usually in close combat, though I might also use the occasional spell," said Sorin. "But my main concern is compatibility with my blood."

"With your blood?" Mr. Sanderson asked, frowning. "Let me draw some and see." He came up to Sorin with a needle and poked him, but the needle instantly dissolved. "I see what's going on. That narrows our options significantly."

He flipped through the book and revealed snake-patterned leather armor. "Stygian Viper Enchantment. Adds a poisonous element to attacks made and has a retaliation effect. It should be resistant to your poisonous blood." He then flipped forward a few dozen pages to a rock-patterned armor. "Stone Skin Armor. It'll make you heavy, but not so heavy that spells will fail. You'll be slower, but you'll be able to take a lot more hits than someone with standard leather armor."

Finally, he flipped over to the end of the book. "This is my personal recommendation, though. Blood Drinker Armor."

"Blood drinker?" asked Sorin. "You mean I'll be able to drink the blood of my enemies?"

"Heavens no!" said Mr. Sanderson. "That's a two-star ability at the very least. This armor only feeds on the blood that spills on it, gaining its properties and repairing itself. So whenever you suffer sounds, the armor will theoretically drink enough blood to regenerate itself, saving a lot on repairs and also preventing enemies from slowly wearing you down.

"There's another advantage: If you feed it poisonous blood, it should theoretically gain contact poison properties. That means that just by touching you, demons will get afflicted. Of course, the premise is that you're basically hugging them, but what can you do – that's the limitation of one-star armor."

"Does it have any other properties?" asked Sorin.

"Of course," said Mr. Sanderson. "Its most significant advantage is its berserker property. You healed fast from that needle puncture wound, and it took me a bit of strength to get past your defenses. This tells me that you're not someone to shy away from taking hits.

"You're saying the berserker property will make me stronger as I take damage?" asked Sorin, intrigued by the possibility.

"Your attack speed and movement speed will increase tremendously," said Mr. Sanderson. "Your defenses will increase as well. Truth be told, your armor won't be as good as theirs in an undamaged state, but once you take enough hits, its enhancement effect could become twice to three times stronger than theirs, in theory. I believe the theoretical limit of the enchantment is a 35% increase in defense, strength, and agility, assuming you're on the cusp of death."

"That… doesn't seem very safe," said Sorin.

"Unfortunately, it's the only armor I can guarantee will have full compatibility with your blood," said Mr. Sanderson. "You're currently at the eighth stage of blood thickening. But what about the ninth stage? The 10th stage? Bone forging? Other enchantments might be able to tolerate your blood at the ninth stage, but after that, you'd be gambling."

"Shouldn't you mention the cost of the armor," said Gareth. "He's obviously never bought proper leather armor before."

"And you have?" snapped Mr. Sanderson. "And what's the big deal about costs? The average adventurer spends 500 gold fixing their enchanted leather armor after coming back from an expedition. And that's for medium damage. If it's overly damaged, there won't even be a chance to repair it. Still, with blood drinker armor, there'll be no need – even if 10% of the armor is left, it will regenerate given enough blood."

"But since you asked, I'll outline the costs. You're supplying the leather, which I'm happy to work with, so we'll cut that part out. Next is the leatherworking, which will cost about 750 gold apiece, with slight fluctuations for customizations. That'll give you a masterwork armor capable of holding an enchantment.

"A night king enchantment is worth 400 gold. A wind-blessed enchantment is worth 600 gold. As for the blood drinker enchantment, it's worth 950 gold. But believe me when I say you'll be saving in the long run-on repairs and the like."

Sorin nearly choked when he heard the number. "You're saying this is going to cost me 1450 gold, even after we supply the materials?"

"It's honestly not bad, given the quality," assured Gareth. "It's incomparable to stock armor that you can adjust with straps. This will fit you like a glove."

But Sorin was crying inwardly. I already have so many expenses, and I still need to go to the Mages Guild and the Alchemists Guild, he thought. But safety was a priority, so he bit back these words and ultimately accepted the cost. "Fine. 1450 gold is."

Lawrence and Gareth were also agreeable to the price he quoted. They signed an agreement and then began choosing colors, which could be added free of charge. Sorin was partial to navy blue coloring, so he picked a combination of blue and black.

"That about does it," said Mr. Sanderson. "At least for you two. As for you, Mr. I have poison for blood; I'll be needing a couple buckets."

"A couple of buckets?" asked Sorin, confused.

"Of your blood, obviously," said Mr. Sanderson. "Otherwise, how am I going to increase its combability with the enchantment? How are the mages going to train the enchantment?"

When the leatherwork put it that way, Sorin could only accept the buckets and cut open his arm. He leaked a pint into it but stopped when he realized there was now a gaping hole in the shop's sturdy wooden floor.

Mr. Sanderson seemed to expect this. He escorted Sorin three buildings down, where he borrowed four large specialty bottles and a glass funnel covered in anti-corrosion runes.

Two hours later, Sorin, Gareth, and Lawrence made their way over to a bar for dinner. "You should have seen the look on his face when you melted the funnel," laughed Lawrence. "Something tells me it was expensive."

Sorin couldn't help but laugh as well. "Who cheaps out on the funnel when they're using two-star laboratory-grade glass? Actually, I think he was less upset about the funnel and more upset at the person who'd sold it to him in the first place."

"Still, it'll be a while before the armor's ready," said Gareth. "A week at the very least."

"Ten days for mine," said Sorin. "It's a good thing we were planning on taking a couple of weeks off anyway."

"What can you do," said Lawrence. "They've got all the mages in the city running around touching up the wall spells and fixing the guard's equipment. Adventurers like us are seen as extras, so we

have to make the best of the situation."

"Downtime is a good thing," said Sorin. "We've had a tense couple of weeks, and I have quite a few things I need to work on." One of these things was experimenting with poisons and spells. The other was figuring out how to unblock extraordinary meridians and improve the strength of his companions.

"As much as I like relaxing, I'm afraid I won't have much time for it," said Gareth. "I almost guarantee that my father will conscript me to fletch arrows till my hands bleed."

"I'm glad I don't have a dad like that," said Lawrence. "He usually lets me do whatever he wants, so I'll take the chance to do a bit of local sightseeing. Ouch! What was that for?" Gareth had elbowed him hard enough to crack a rib.

"Have you learned nothing in the past few weeks?" asked Gareth. "I'm sure I speak for everyone in our party when I say that we're tired of you damaging our reputation."

"Agreed," said Sorin. "Less peeping and a little more growing would be a nice development."

"You're all a bunch of spoilsports," Lawrence mumbled. "Anyway, it's dinner time. Who's up for noodles?"

"Noodles would be a nice change," said Gareth.

I'm okay with noodles," said Sorin. Having obtained their agreement, Lawrence led his two companions to a small, worn-down restaurant. Not companions, thought Sorin, correcting himself. Friends.


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