After a brief internal debate Haldryn chose the Commendation of Justice.
From what he had seen so far, spending Piety on random Gifts of Fate produced mostly "Thank You for Your Patronage" and tiny dribbles of currency. The first Commendation had immediately given him Contemplation. In a place as orderly as Asgard, genuine criminals were rare. Gold was easy to come by; opportunities for Commendations of Justice were not.
"If you wish to express thanks," he said, "a written letter of gratitude would mean more to me than money."
"A letter of gratitude?" Gnar looked puzzled. It was an odd request.
Haldryn had prepared for this. "I know a fellow named Arthas. He's respectful to his teachers and filial to his elders, but he's also unbearably proud. He keeps claiming he's the warmest person in the entire Nine Realms. I plan to do as many good deeds as I can for a while and collect letters of thanks—just to prove him wrong."
Gnar burst out laughing. "That's wonderful. All right, I'll write one."
Haldryn smiled and handed over paper and pen. "Just follow this simple format."
"No problem."
A short while later Gnar finished the Book of Gratitude and pointed to one line. "By the way, what is this 'Holy Light' written here?"
"Sacred light—a metaphor for justice."
"Is that friend of yours… a light elf?" Gnar asked.
Light elves were the principal race of Alfheim—gentle, kind, and the undisputed masters of cat husbandry in the Nine Realms. Their preferred mounts were a breed of flying cats.
"He claims light-elf blood. Who knows if it's true."
The moment he left, Haldryn donated the Book of Gratitude and claimed the second free Commendation of Justice the same way as before.
[Obtained: [Alchemy Recipe: Andorov's Hair Growth Tonic]
[Andorov's Hair Growth Tonic
Type: Potion
Standard item level: 2
Primary materials: Silverleaf, Khadgar's Whisker
Description: Being bald does not make one stronger. Therefore, if the opportunity presents itself, one might as well encourage a fuller head of hair. Andorov's Hair Growth Tonic—a blessing for middle-aged and elderly men. You deserve it.
Additional notes: Apply to the bald area. Effective on any creature capable of going bald.
Alchemy technique:…]
Haldryn stared at the recipe, expression blank.
Andorov's Hair Growth Tonic?
He was still underage. He barely had hair in the places that mattered yet. What use was a hair-growth potion to him?
For a moment he regretted turning down the gold.
Ah well. Maybe in a few thousand years he would need it.
He returned home, finished the day's healing-stone work, then studied the Greenhild Pharmacopoeia under Elle's guidance until well after dinner.
Lying on his bed, replaying the events of the day, he eventually took out the Tome and opened the [Book of Trials: Witheredwhisker Kobold Miner] again.
One more try.
He refused to believe a proper Aesir—however young and underdeveloped—could lose to a single kobold miner.
Palm on the handprint. The world shifted. Once more he stood in the cramped, dim tunnel.
The space was so narrow a person could barely walk upright. Visibility dropped to nothing only a few steps away. It was a terrible battlefield.
The layout reminded him of certain WoW mines—complex interiors, easy to get lost in, packed with aggressive mobs that could swarm a careless player to death.
The Trial Space gave him no time for nostalgia. The familiar battle cry echoed from deeper in the tunnel, accompanied by hurried footsteps.
"You no take candle!"
The candle-headed kobold charged, miner's pick raised.
As it drew closer the candle on its head finally threw enough light to see by.
Haldryn clenched his fists and sprinted forward. They met almost immediately.
The pick swung.
Instinct told him to dodge; instead he slammed into the tunnel wall. The pick bit into his leg. He hissed in pain and still managed to drop low for a counterpunch.
The kobold simply crouched. Its already short stature put the candle flame at precisely the wrong height.
Haldryn jerked backward in alarm and tripped over a loose rock, nearly falling.
The kobold seized the opening and rained blows. In the tight space every attempt to dodge sent Haldryn into a wall or left him stumbling over scattered ore. The kobold's small size made it perfectly at home here; it moved freely while he flailed.
Without a weapon the fight ended the same way as before.
Back in his room Haldryn gritted his teeth.
Again!
He re-entered. Same tunnel. Same cry.
"You no take candle!"
This time, when the pick came down, he timed it perfectly and clamped both hands around the haft.
"You no take candle!" the kobold screeched.
Haldryn rolled his eyes. Whoever designed this dialogue only gave it one line. I'm stealing the pick, not the candle.
The kobold was strong, but even a thin, underage Aesir still possessed greater power. One hard yank and the pick changed hands.
The tide turned at once. Haldryn reversed the weapon and smashed it into the kobold's shoulder. The creature howled, rolled, and fled deeper into the tunnel.
Short legs were an advantage in tight spaces, but they could not outrun a humanoid for long.
Haldryn caught up, traded a few more blows, and finally brought the pick down hard on the kobold's skull. Bone cracked.
Pop.
The kobold burst like a punctured balloon and dissolved into smoke.
A single page of paper lay glowing on the ground.
Haldryn caught his breath, then picked it up.
[Obtained: [4.21 Piety]
[Obtained: [Book of Trials: Large Candle Gag]
4.21 Piety was modest. The new Book of Trials, however, was a surprise.
Large Candle Gag?
The name sounded faintly familiar.
^^^
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