“What do you mean you don’t want to do it?” Emil asked incredulous, side stepping a massive mantaur with a pair of double axes heading the opposite way down the hall.

  “I’m telling you I don’t want to kill those guys Emil, and can I just tell you how much this smells like a setup?” Ozzy said, moving out of the way of a small dwarf looking guy.

  “Yes Ozzy, you’ve mentioned how this is all some conspiracy to rid you of your innocence and how the rest of us are all slobbering savages. Listen man you can call me a savage all you want but if Liza hears you said she’s a savage she’s gonna turn you inside out.” Emil turned down a side hall, leaving the hunter guilds main hall as the veteran and now freshly minted hunter headed towards the guilds market space.

  “You’re not savages, I’m just a higher being Emil, it’s simple keep up.” Ozzy said, dodging one of the Emil’s jabs only to get shoved into the wall, nearly tumbling as they continued down the hallway.

  “What I was saying though, “Ozzy continued after righting himself,” is that I’ve never been in a situation like that before. Killing that scalie guy, even in self defense was one thing, but seeing his wife or whatever that woman was crying over him? That hurt in some way I don’t think I could ever explain.” Ozzy said, feeling a weight continue to settle across his shoulders as he talked to Emil.

  “I wish I could tell you what I think you want to hear me say man, but I feel like I have to tell you what I think is gonna keep you safe. People kill people here, all the time. So many people live in myreluck that it’s impossible to count them, hell they can’t even tax all of them, each platform is twenty miles across and there are twenty five of them. Aside from the top five platforms and this one which belong to the government, hunters, gods, and families older than this city, every piece of ground is fought over and purchased in blood.” Emil sighed and stopped, pulling Ozzy into a side corridor and out of the general foot traffic.

  “I like you man, I really do. You’re great, you’re nice, and you want to help people, but now you live in a war zone. I don’t know what your home was like but here the rules are completely different. Someone could kill us tomorrow, and the only chance of that person seeing justice would hang on Liza putting up a bounty for them or killing them herself. That’s all there is to it. That mantaur we have the bounty on?” Emil pulled the piece of paper he’d taken from Jonethus out of his bag. “X Murder, X robbery, X extortion, 2 public torture, 3 hunter kills. Listen to me when I tell you this Ozzy. This isn’t some bounty hunt for loot or prowling monster hunt. This is about bringing a man so vile the warlords want him gone, to justice. You’re that justice now, and if you don’t stick up for that justice then you’ll only let more people get hurt by that piece of swamp shit.” Emil jabbed a finger at him, “This guy’s killed three hunters now, and he would’ve killed us. Listen, you have to be with me on this man, otherwise you can’t be a hunter. So are you gonna help me stop this guy from hurting anyone else or what?”

  Ozzy nodded, unwilling to speak it aloud and yet just as unwilling to ignore Emil’s call. He had to change, and for all the life of him he wanted to push past this final barrier, for the violence not to bother him, but he couldn’t. Life would just force him to do it anyways.

  ***

  The hunters market was a sprawling affair, tables and booths went on and on for a space three times the size of a football field. All sorts of goods were hawked by vendors and left on displays of a dazzling display of wealth that probably would have sent someone from the 1st platform into shock.

  Everywhere they went they saw weapons, monster parts, magical meats, potions, poisons, magical brews, and even the occasional shard. Though there were no cores to be had at any of the stations. While it would have been nice to see and browse among them Ozzy knew they all went to market through the guild itself, as no one else would be able to keep such valuable treasure safe.

  Eventually they got to a booth that held a myriad of scales and a very beefy half giant with a cleaver as big as Ozzy’s chest and a banging Italian accent.

  “Patrick buddy! How’s it going?” Emil said, pulling parcels of meat out of his dimensional bag and throwing it up on the wide empty space of the table in front of them.

  “Emil,” Patrick nodded at him. “Decent haul then?” He said, taking the meat and beginning to weigh it out.

  “More than decent I’d imagine,” He leaned in conspiratorially, “We had a run in with a root sucker and a sting crab.”

  “That so! We’ve been needing some o’ that crab meat. Won’t be able to give you much of a good deal on the catfish bits tho’.” Patrick said bundling the meat into five pound bags, and packed away three bags worth of murk rat meat. “Reckon you came across a younger root sucker then?”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “An adult, but nothing too insane.” Emil said, contradicting every thought Ozzy still held towards the late monster as he began to shovel tentacles onto the table. “The sting crab was a juvenile though.”

  Patrick whistled as he saw a treasure troves of sting crab and root sucker tentacle meat. “You weren’t kidding about it being an adult then, and not a bad haul of crab neither.” He continued talking as he packed 8 bags worth of tentacles and three more worth of sting crab meat. He could have packed an extra full of the catfish meat but ended up scraping it into a pile of other mixed meats off to the side.

  “What were you thinking for the lot of it?” Emil asked, donning a poker face as he slipped into shopping mode.

  Donning his own mask of professionalism Patrick dropped several different sized chunks of crystal onto the counter. There were no mana roqs, which were this places dollar bills. Instead the table was full of the aforementioned rectangular chunks of blue crystal, and while they were the same color as roqs Ozzy wasn’t familiar with their names or value.

  “I’ll give you 12 mana stones. No more no less.” Patrick said, putting a hand up to forestall any haggling.

  “12? You trying to put Liza out on the street? Or worse, send her down a platform?” Emil spluttered, his professional veneer melting away in favor of an emotional high ground.

  “By the gods Emil you know it’s a good deal.” Patrick said angrily.

  “Maybe for three quarters of what I’ve got here. Don’t think I didn’t see you pushing the catfish meat into your little scraps pile either. Don’t make me go with that blue flying bastard three stalls down.” Emil threatened.

  “The Aver?” Patrick gestured with his head towards a blue bird man with a very prominent features, feathers instead of hair, and a pair of wings. “Come on you and I both know he’d just cheat you. How long have I been cutting you deals now? Six, seven years? You wanna just throw all of that away?”

  Ozzy watched on with great interest as they went back and forth, the massive half giant of a man only letting up once Emil threw in a pile of murk rat claws. In the end Emil managed to get another three mana stones, bringing their total up to fifteen, and while both men had seemed angry and bitter at where the price had ended there had been secret smiles passing between them with each haggle and counter offer, ending in what seemed to Ozzy to be a satisfying sell for both men.

  After selling the meat Emil took him to several other booths, one where Emil tried to sell Ozzy’s paralyzing poison vails but was quickly shot down. A booth that specialized in crafting useful things out of monster parts where they sold the rest of their murk rat and root sucker bits. The root sucker beak they’d looted even selling for a whopping six mana stones while everything else only pulled in a meager two.

  Last on their list was the core, and they stole away from the market towards a set of tellers with uniformed hunters guild workers and even several heavily armed guards. Once at the teller Emil had asked for a private appraisal room in which they met a very strange little man named Cornelius who helped them not only determine the cores current approximate worth, but also list it up on the auction board.

  Their appraiser had estimated the worth of the core to be around the 18 mana stone mark. Though after guild expenses they would only be getting around 14 stones, which Ozzy learned was about 700 roqs, each stone being worth about 50 roqs dependent on their size.

  Ozzy had started to look through the current shards and cores on the auction list though he’d been forestalled by Emil. “First let’s finish the job, and then we can talk about upgrades.” He’d told him, though he had gotten Cornelius to send them home with a copy of the current list.

  Everything said, they left the hunters guild 23 mana stones richer, which was apparently more than Emil normally made in five trips. Between Ozzy’s quite frankly scary luck, two very fortunate/unfortunate encounters, and great luck with the looting circles they’d made out like tier 1 hunters. That wasn’t even counting the shards and core that they’d used back in the swamp either. They were two men about town, doin’ some serious steppin’ with their new dough.

  Errands completed they headed home, grabbing a few cheap snacks along the way and even a gift of three flasks of heavy mead for Liza, apparently the woman was a drinker.

  ***

  The rest of the way home had been as uneventful as the trip up had been, though being able to bound down the staircases had been fun all the way up until just about the bajillionth flight down. The people here must have quads of steel, otherwise there was just no way they’d survive. Even Ozzy who’d been fit before getting what basically amounted to superpowers was struggling. At least until he remembered one very minor detail of his abilitiy furry fortitudes mass reducing quality.

  “Hey man,” Ozzy huffed, bounding down the stairs three at a time to keep pace with Emil, “I think one of my abilities makes it so that I can’t get hurt by falling.”

  “Okay? Why does that matter-” Emil was cut off as he watched eyes wide at Ozzy who still a good forty feet above the next platform down took an extra step and vaulted the railing, plummeting downwards with an excited whoop, and subsequent shrill scream.

  Ozzy had heard that falls only started to get really dangerous past fifty feet. Sure no one wanted to take a tumble off of a forty foot building but he’d heard something like 50% of people would survive a fall from 40 feet, which was what he’d guesstimated the distance down to be.

  Guesswork had played the largest role here in his gamble, but he felt largely safe, if a little frazzled at what was turning out to be a rather impressive downward speed. After all his superhuman abilities and fortitude would already make the fall more survivable, plus his fall damage negating ability and he should be more than fine at this height. From something like 100 feet sure that’d be reckless, but hey that’s what- SMACK.

  Hitting the floor like a falling anvil Ozzy felt as his soles slammed painfully into the surface and while his legs did their best to absorb the impact it was simply too much, and his body continued downward as he fell backward, falling into a rapid squat as his rear came into painful and violent contact with the platform floor. Just as he feared he might injure himself however he bounced, literally bounced, like some discarded toy he flipped up in the air, somersaulting as he tried in vain to catch himself before landing in a painful heap against the edifice of a stout wooden building.

  Fall damage test 1 completed, and marked as a success.

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