The wind runner book 10.., p.44
The Wind Runner: Book 10 (The Wandering Inn), page 44
“Bloody unfair.”
Yes, that was it. The more time Luan spent in this world, the more he was convinced that was what was happening. To him and the other people from Earth. They were part of a system that was just…
Unfair. Frankly, ludicrously unfair. Perhaps others would have called it magical, wonderful, but Luan was an athlete. He took no drugs. He practiced and exercised to achieve mastery over the one thing he was truly good at. He’d devoted his life to becoming a master at rowing. But someone could paddle about for a few weeks and gain a Skill that made them so much faster in the water than they had any right to be.
Skills. Levels. They allowed someone to reach past their limits. To do what was impossible. Luan had known it. Hell, he’d reveled in the fact, marveling at watching Daly use [Power Strike] or the way Geneva could make a bleeding patient just stop with a touch. That was one thing. But this?
Pull. The next drive made the wind rush past Luan’s back. He gritted his teeth. His shell was shooting through the water, much, much faster than anyone from his world could ever hope to be, he was sure. He couldn’t tell, but he thought he was going faster than most people could hope to run. Without Skills, that was.
[Boat: Spray Cutter]. [Power Strokes]. [Greater Endurance]. [Lesser Strength]. [Enhanced Durability – Oars]. [Boat: Lightweight Craft]. [Wave Sense].
Those were his Skills. Those, and a few more. Each one had made Luan’s already high-speed that much more ludicrous. One Skill. One Skill could turn you into the best athlete in the world if you were close.
[Lesser Strength]. Oh, it sounded weak, but it had made Luan so much stronger it was insane. As if he could lift an extra…what was it from pounds to kilograms, again? Ah yes, an extra 20 kilograms with each arm. Ridiculous. If you had that Skill on top of a body? The weight limits at the Olympics would have absolutely no meaning. As for [Greater Endurance]—
Luan had healing potions and stamina potions on his belt. It was a thing Runners used. Magic to make them fresh and rested, able to run all day at their peak performance. He hadn’t used a potion, and he’d been going at a fast pace this entire time. He could do three races back to back and win each one. His boat was barely affected by the waves. He could—and had—blocked an axe with his oar and not even chipped it. As for the rest?
Ludicrous. Unfair. And…so much fun. Luan wanted to laugh and marvel at the speed at which he was going. Laugh and weep because he hadn’t earned it. Not really. He’d just leveled up. The system had given him levels and a class. He was an [Expert Rower]. Level 27 in only two months.
“Perhaps I earned it. I don’t feel like it, though. Not at all. This is too easy. What if I were a [Warrior]? Level 27? What must they feel like if they’re Level 30? 40? 50? Like gods. And that’s too much power for any one man, woman…Dullahan…”
Dark thoughts for such a beautiful day. Baleros slowly passed by Luan on his right. Forests and jungles devolving to brilliant white sand or cliffs. And the ocean was another marvel. Untouched by trash, even a hint of it. Pure and brilliant, green fading to blue in the distance. A world without pollution. Luan wanted to turn and admire it. But he did have a job. So he kept rowing.
With his back turned, mind you. The biggest danger Luan’s technique held was that he was rowing with his back to the front of the boat. In other words, he couldn’t see what he was rowing towards. Not a problem if you were on a lake, competing in a race. But on the ocean or going up a winding river?
If he had to go slow, Luan would scull with one of the smaller oars. But when travelling from port to port along the continent’s shoreline, he used a different technique. Luan glanced at something propped in front of him as he drew forwards for another drive. A flash of light—he avoided staring at the reflected sun. But the image in the angled glass showed him a shape pulling out in front of him to the right. Luan cursed and pulled, using more force on his right. His shell turned.
“Thank you, mirrors. Thank you, Paige.”
He’d spotted the second canoe coming off a beach just in time. Luan’s course took him right, and the figures on the canoe turned to follow. He heard a shout.
“Hey! You there! The Human on the boat! Hold on, we want to talk!”
Lizardfolk. Luan chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw them. They were turning, trying to catch him. Luan could change the course of his shell—right now, he was headed around them, but that meant they had time to catch up. He could do that and make it a race, but instead—
“[Second Wind].”
Luan spoke the Skill and felt his body grow even fresher. Now he felt like he was on a day’s full rest. He swung forwards and drove his oars into the water. The South African man heard an exclamation from the boat and then a shout.
“One, two, stroke, stroke! Come on, catch him! There are eight of us—”
The eight Lizardfolk on the canoe turned. They were all using single oars, rowing towards Luan, trying to intercept him. But it was a futile effort. They had coordination and maybe some Skills of their own, but their canoe was too heavy, their technique imperfect. Compared to Luan, they could have been sitting still in the water. He raced past them and heard a shout.
“Aw, damn it you guys—”
Luan turned his head, wary of arrows. But the Lizardfolk had just given up. Some were laughing at their leader who was exasperatedly berating them. Another waved, and Luan grinned.
Good-natured Lizardfolk. Still, if they were [Pirates] or [Brigands], they’d force Luan to hand over his cargo and all the money he had on him. The [Rower] wasn’t about to take that chance. He kept going and spotted the canoe heading back down to the beach where it had been hidden.
“Most definitely bandits of some kind. But at least they didn’t shoot arrows at me.”
After all, it was dangerous doing his job. Luan’s boat was marked along the side with a bright white splotch of paint upon which was drawn a letter. Not an alphabetical letter, but an actual letter, envelope and all. It was a crude but effective way of letting people know he was a Runner—or rather, water-based Runner—delivering messages for the Runner’s Guild. It usually worked, but sometimes it made him a target.
Still, Luan hadn’t ever run into anything he couldn’t outscull yet. And he’d been working for two months. In fact, he was so good at his job making deliveries from port to port that people were already remembering his name. Calling him the ‘Human who actually knows how to row’. Not the flashiest of titles, but it was getting there.
A [Rower] from Earth. An athlete good at one thing, and one thing only, really. Luan’s smile faded. This was all he could do. He was no warrior, he didn’t like fighting, and he had no head for magic. He couldn’t help Paige build a steam engine or figure out how batteries were made—how were they made? Acid? He could only row. And so he did. Straight into Cinfal’s harbor and towards the docks. But Luan had to pause to let the navy pass him by.
“Whoa.”
Sixteen ships had been crowding Cinfal’s harbor. It was a large city, but the armada of vessels were huge. The largest warship was so big that it hadn’t even been able to get near the docks. It was a massive vessel with four masts that took an age to pass Luan by. No paddles for this great beast of a ship; it had opened all its sails, and wind was blowing hard into them, despite there being only a slight breeze to the day.
“Magic. I suppose that’s how you do it.”
Luan shaded his eyes as the lead warship passed him by. The hull wasn’t just plain wood; it had been painted yellow and black, giving it an eerie look, that of strikes of lightning against a black background. And on deck? Hundreds of [Sailors] and [Soldiers] moved about, armed with cutlasses, swords, some even wearing armor despite being at sea. A few waved to Luan as he passed. The others eyed him like an insect in his tiny craft.
And the warship even made waves. Luan cursed and swung his oars, dodging the first swells the ship left. The other fifteen ships followed it out of the harbor, all propelled unnaturally swiftly by the wind. Luan was sure he could take them any day in a race, even with a huge head start. But to see such massive vessels moving like that was still eerie.
When they were gone, Luan rowed into the harbor. He looked up, shouting, and switched to single-oar sculling to navigate past the smaller fishing ships and vessels still present. He waved, and a Dullahan directing traffic pointed and shouted in a voice even Luan could hear.
“Right-most dock, Human! Watch out! Trading cog’s inbound!”
Luan glanced up, saw the cog moving slowly towards him, and picked up his oars. The Dullahan blinked, and a few Lizardfolk unloading ships laughed and clapped their hands in delight as Luan zoomed past the cog to his place. By the time he’d tied his boat up, the Dullahan was striding towards him.
Part of Luan, a small part, wanted to act like a certain pirate captain as he stepped onto the dock. But since he didn’t want to sink his precious shell, he clambered out and waited for the Dullahan politely.
“Runner, are you?”
The female Dullahan propped her hand on her hips. Her head was being carried in a sling around her neck, much like a baby would be. Luan looked at that as he nodded.
“On a delivery.”
“Priority?”
“No. I can pay now.”
“Ah, well then, how long will you be here?”
“Let’s call it a day. I can actually drag this thing onto the docks if you’ve got a place to put it…”
It was far heavier than a modern boat, so Luan didn’t really want to do that if necessary. The Dullahan [Harbormistress] shook her head.
“No need. You saw that fleet heading out? They were our big customers. We’ll have open docks for at least a day or so. The fee will be four silver for the night.”
Luan grimaced. Four silver? That was a lot—but he was renting a space. And…he mentally tried to gauge how much it would be to pay for only a small time and hire people to haul the boat and rent more space.
“Four silver it is. Here you are.”
He carefully placed the silver coins into the Dullahan’s waiting palm. She couldn’t nod, but her body performed a kind of half-bow.
“It is accepted. Your name, Human?”
“Luan. Luan Khumalo.”
“You will be recognized by anyone managing the docks if I am not there. Need you further proof or will name and sight alone suffice?”
“It will suffice. Thank you.”
The Dullahan nodded, and then she was gone. Luan checked the knot securing his shell and then bent to grab his things. He could leave most of it in the vessel; a good harbor left no fear of [Thieves] stealing. But just to be safe, Luan took his most precious gear and his delivery, leaving only the empty water flask and some travel rations in the boat. And then he entered Cinfal.
“Excuse me. Coming through. Runner on a delivery.”
Luan’s first few steps out of the wet harbor and port area was into a market where fresh fish and, predictably, hawkers were waiting. They were hoping to prey on any fresh arrivals with shiny goods or the latest gossip. Directions to a brothel? Sharpen your sword? Like the seasoned [Sailors] and [Travellers], Luan pushed through them with an eye on his belt for stray hands. His cry also alleviated the press of bodies somewhat—a Runner had no time to buy knick knacks.
“Which way to the Runner’s Guild? Anyone?”
A dozen hands pointed. Luan hurried down the street, a touch unsteadily since his legs had grown used to the rowing. He made it to the Runner’s Guild quickly though; like any good guild in a port city, it was located near enough to the docks. There was a Lizardgirl receptionist at the desk. She looked up and grinned toothily as Luan came in.
“Hey! You’re that Human I heard so much about! Skin as dark as night and fast as a bird on the water? Luan?”
“That’s me.”
Luan dumped his package on the table. It was mail—and four individual deliveries, all held together in a thick bag. And heavy. The town he’d come from had paid him on top of the four individual delivery payments to get to Cinfal fast—the City Runners who went on foot didn’t want to make the difficult journey all the way here as the foot-route was twice as difficult and long as if you went by ocean.
“Wow! I got a message from Paxil that you were coming with a bunch of mail. Let’s see…four individual deliveries?”
“Right here.”
“Thank you! We’ll get Street Runners on it right away. May I see your Runner’s seal? Just a formality. Thank you again! And did you encounter anything of note on your way here?”
“I saw eight Lizardfolk on a canoe. They pushed off a beach and tried to catch me. I wasn’t sure if they were [Bandits], but I didn’t stick around to find out.”
“Ooh. Got it.”
The Lizardgirl noted the information down for any Runners in the area, or law enforcement. Then she smiled at Luan.
“Alright! We’re all set! Your payment for the packages as well as your current unclaimed coin comes to…”
She rummaged for Luan’s file, which was meticulously updated by [Message] spell between the Runner’s Guilds, especially if Luan was in the area. The Lizardgirl blinked, and Luan saw her neck frills open for a second in shock.
“A lot, I know.”
He smiled wearily at her. Luan hadn’t been back to Talenqual in a while. He’d gone from city to town to village, doing deliveries nonstop. As such, he had a fairly good idea of what had made her eyes pop.
The Lizardgirl stared at the number again and then coughed. She lowered her volume a tiny bit.
“Fifty-four gold coins from all your deliveries. You want it all now? Because I’ll have to open the strongbox to get it all if you do.”
Fifty-four coins. Luan’s smile sprang to his lips unbidden. Now that was the fruit of hard work. And from the look a Centaur [Runner] standing at a counter next to him was giving him, it was good even by City Runner standards.
“No. Just…four gold coin’s worth. I’ll pull the rest out when I get home.”
“You got it! Wow. That’s a lot of money. You sure you’re just a City Runner? I heard you can make it from Talenqual to Ravelm in less than two days!”
“I’m hoping to make it to Courier eventually. But a City Runner I am. Thank you.”
Luan accepted the four gold coins from the Lizardgirl and signed the receipt she handed him. She sighed.
“Wow. And you use that tiny boat! Who taught you how to row that well? Lizardfolk? It wasn’t Centaurs, that’s for sure. Right, Minerioune?”
She laughed and indicated the Centaur. Minerioune the Centaur didn’t laugh back with her.
“Let’s just say I was pretty good at it back home. One of the best, in fact.”
Luan smiled. The Lizardgirl nodded and didn’t ask for more details. She waved the next Runner in line forwards as Luan strode towards the door.
There went Luan Khumalo. A few of the Runners in the guild knew him, and he thought he recognized a few faces, but it was them knowing him, not the other way around. Because, and Luan was proud of this, Skills or no, he was developing a reputation as an excellent City Runner. Only two months and he’d already made a name for himself.
Luan specialized in lightning-quick deliveries from spot to spot. After all, it wasn’t as if he’d trained to do long-distance rowing. Even with [Greater Endurance] and all his Skills boosting his speed, there was a very hard limit on how far Luan could go. But fast? He could do fast.
“And it’ll be faster still if I can hold onto some of that gold I’ve earned.”
Luan muttered to himself as he pushed out the Runner’s Guild door. Now that he was on land and not in an athlete’s mindless trance, he could think about his future. He’d been mulling over the idea in his head. He was faster than the world record holders in his world already. But he could be even quicker in the water if he had the money to spend.
“Get a boat made of the lightest-weight wood. Sliding seat—and make it actually aerodynamic.”
That meant a proper single scull, long and narrow, not wide, like the one Luan was using. But to have that, he’d need a bag of holding, a good one, to hold his deliveries and other gear.
“And paddles. Lightweight. Made of that good wood the Lizardfolk use. Expensive. And enchanted.”
Yes, enchanted. Paddles enchanted with the [Weight] spell were what he wanted, according to an [Oarsman] he’d spoken with in a tavern. They’d add as much as fifty pounds to each stroke. And a spell could make the boat and oars practically featherweight. Add that to something to put the wind on his side—
Luan wondered if he could actually achieve liftoff with that kind of setup. He sighed happily, then frowned.
“But that’s hundreds, thousands of gold coins. And from what Paige said, this might be going towards a new apartment for the kids to live in.”
His good spirits sank a bit. But Luan refused to let them sink further. He shook his head.
“Children. They come first.”
Perhaps that was a harsh generalization, but Luan did truly feel like one of a few adults sometimes. Some of the Earthworlders brought over to this one were only fourteen or fifteen. Luan and Geneva were older than they were by a decade. They had to take care of them. And the fifty-four gold coins Luan had labored for was a big step in that direction.
“Time to head back to Talenqual. After a good night’s rest. Big dinner. Yeah.”
Luan licked his lips. He was exhausted from nearly a week of non-stop work. Part of him thought it would be best to get back to Talenqual tonight, but he was too tired to contemplate rowing for that long. If he could, he’d have arranged it so Paige could withdraw his earnings at the Runner’s Guild. But they were very careful to make sure a Runner’s hard-earned money wasn’t extorted or stolen from them.
Luan was about to head to the nearest inn and ask about a lovely bed and some food when a thought sprang out to him. Something in the back of his mind.
