Potion Purchases and the Iron Revelation
Sunlight poured in and birds chirped as Dorne woke in the morning, ate a bowl of stew, and checked his gear for the day's routine, pausing in thought. He obviously needed his money pouch, but did he really have to lug around the cumbersome bag, shield, club, and leather cap? Today's essentials were visiting the Warrior Guild, checking the bulletin board, poring over the compendium of all warrior Supernatural Abilities, and buying one or two potions. If time allowed, he could sharpen his dagger on a whetstone with water or run laps outside the city to adapt to his abilities.
From what he remembered, no one wandered around unarmed—not the folks nursing beers at the guild tables or those scanning the quest board. Dorne pulled out unnecessary items like his waterskin and preserved rations, packed only the essentials into his slim bag, and slung it over his shoulder. He'd stash the potion in there after buying it. He strapped the shield and club to his sturdy belt and stepped out of the room.
He handed silver to the waiting innkeeper. "Innkeeper, I'll be staying here again tonight."
"Got it. Good luck out there."
With a quick nod, Dorne left the inn. The innkeeper, who had grown fond of him after Dorne's killer roast chicken prompted other guests to order it too, responded more warmly than before.
On the way from the inn to the guild, Dorne eyed the shops lining both sides of the street. As Kerolf had said, cost-effective spots like the Beginner Forge Inn were out on the city's fringes. In a world without internet reviews or star ratings—or any way to even check them if they existed—finding good value meant pounding the pavement. But with potions on the shopping list, that was easier said than done. They were pricey, and you couldn't test their true quality until you were injured, so comparing shops was impractical. Dorne lacked any magical or alchemical knowledge to judge them by sight anyway. So he'd skip dubious "bargain" potions and splurge on one reliable high-end one.
After a long walk into what passed for the city center, Dorne picked a shop with a potion illustration on the sign and stepped inside.
Ching-a-ling.Ching-a-ling.
The small bell above the door announced his arrival.
"Welcome!"
A young female clerk, who had been bent over sorting items, looked up with a greeting. An older man emerged from the back and waved her off. "Finish sorting. I'll handle the customer."
Dorne and the shopkeeper faced each other across the counter.
"Hello. I'm looking to buy potions for the deeper Labyrinth layers."
"How far down do you explore?"
Dorne thought for a moment. He was sticking to Layer 1 for now, but once he had a party, injuries there would be even rarer. Buying a potion effective up to Layers 2-3 made sense.
"Just Layer 1 so far, but I'd like something useful up to Layer 3."
"You plan ahead, eh? For Layer 3, I'd recommend this one." The shopkeeper inwardly dismissed Dorne as a clueless newbie and grabbed the third-from-the-end potion from the shelf, setting it on the counter. "The ones at the very end are for goblin dung infections. No major wounds on Layer 1, so preventing infection is priority. But you look like you won't get hurt there anyway, so this has better wound-healing for deeper layers."
Dorne, worried about the price, asked, "How much is that potion?"
"Two gold. Way pricier than Layer 1 stuff, of course."
Dorne had earned just over two silver from one goblin and one hobgoblin. Regular goblins dropped fingernail-sized magic stones weighing about one gram each, at fifty copper per gram. Even catching a bunch on his second run, it wasn't a hundred. He had just over forty silver total.
"Ah, not enough cash. How much for a Layer 1 potion?"
Dorne was upfront and asked about the cheaper option.
"Ten silver for Layer 1. Bigger gap than you'd think, right?"
"Yeah. Just the one Layer 1 potion, please."
The shopkeeper returned the Layer 3 one to the shelf and handed over the Layer 1. "Rookies often underestimate Layers 2-3. But the Labyrinth gets brutal layer by layer. Be careful—especially since up to Layer 3, there's no escape routes."
"Thanks for the advice."
As he paid silver and took the potion, Dorne reflected: the shopkeeper was right. Sure, outrunning goblins sounded simple, but vanishing from sight meant gaining two corners' distance—and you couldn't silence your footsteps. Then you'd stumble into another pack. Fleeing meant encirclement, and per the shopkeeper, up to Layer 3, you had to fight every monster you met. Dorne tempered his arrogance from acquiring [Iron Muscle] and rekindled his caution toward the Labyrinth. Realistically, Layer 1 held no real threats for him, but trouble always started with "surely not." Better safe than sorry.
After buying the potion, Dorne headed to the Warrior Guild to scan the bulletin board. Surprisingly, a notice already bore his name: location, the guild's beer table; date, tomorrow; time, noon. The guild probably sold beer anyway. Dorne memorized the details and moved to find the book on specialized abilities.
No board or beer here—just small tables and chairs. Among the guild's info books, he picked the one titled Warrior Specialized Supernatural Ability Compendium and sat.
...! Hmm... Oh... Ah...
Dorne felt shock and regret. Per the book, specialized abilities included "combos"! The iconic warrior ability 【Fighting Spirit】 wasn't single—it was a combo of four material abilities. And his [Iron Muscle] wasn't a material for it.
Abilities were "almost always" the material that quickest completed a combo based on what you already had. Dorne could pick from three options, but twisting the order for 【Fighting Spirit】 made less sense than finishing what he had. Abilities got harder to acquire, so grabbing four more for 【Fighting Spirit】 versus two to complete [Iron Muscle]? The latter won.
So what did [Iron Muscle] plus two more make? 【Iron Man】...
[Iron Muscle] combined with [Iron Bone] and [Iron Skin] to form 【Iron Man】.
Disappointment at missing prized 【Fighting Spirit】 faded fast. 【Iron Man】 stirred his blood. On Earth, "Ironman" meant triathlon aces. Here, it was literal 【Iron Man】. Skin wouldn't turn metallic black, but still. Visions of a steel human soaring the skies flashed by. (Obviously no flying.)
The book briefly compared them: 【Fighting Spirit】 was temporary enhancement via stamina, affecting gear too; 【Iron Man】 was permanent, no cost, body-only. The world and guild favored the popular, symbolic 【Fighting Spirit】 with more materials, but Dorne disagreed. Having [Iron Muscle], he knew its power held up—and versus 【Fighting Spirit】, it had pros and cons. Maybe his aptitude leaned toward 【Iron Man】. Same name and tattoo, but performance varied by person's talent and affinity.
Dorne skimmed the list of warrior abilities. Noticing multiples of the book, he pocketed his copy in the bag. Medieval looks aside, magic meant they weren't stingy with printing.
Back to the inn.
With a party meet tomorrow at noon via the guild, he needed to wrap today's tasks. Dorne's steps hurried out of the guild.
Dorne had sharpened his dulled dagger on a soaked whetstone. He left the bag and cap behind, grabbing just shield and club before heading out. Running unencumbered was a very Earth idea. Who knew what might happen? He'd wield them in a fight anyway.
From the Beginner Forge Inn, he veered farther out until the grand gates and guards came into view, then turned left along the wall. Shield and club, dangling and smacking his legs, now in hand, he ran beside the battlements.
Sniff-sniff, whoosh... Sniff-sniff, whoosh...
Breathing in through the nose, out the mouth to match his strides, Earth-style. His twisted-wire calves and thighs pumped, swinging the heavy shield and club fore and aft. His body surged forward in great strides.
Huff, huff, huff... Whoosh, whoosh...
After minutes, Dorne stopped, catching his ragged breath. He was adapting to his transformed physique. Oddly, he was winded. Muscles primed like a supercar engine begged to go more, still fresh after that brutal pace.
Dorne wiped sweat from his club-hand's knuckles and sorted his thoughts. First, running speed hadn't boosted as much as [Iron Muscle]'s power suggested—light body weight. All motion had action-reaction. To accelerate, you pushed the ground hard; his mass wasn't enough. But muscles felt heavier post-ability, so [Iron Skin] and [Iron Bone] should fix that.
Why winded despite fine muscles? He closed his eyes for 【Self-Contemplation】. Heart pulsed steadily; lungs heaved. Long-endurance exercise was called "cardiorespiratory endurance" for heart and lungs' roles. Lungs loaded oxygen via gas exchange; heart pumped blood. His heart was an A+; lungs a failing 39. Trainable, though. Intense runs like this would build lung capacity. Pure human potential, unrelated to abilities.
(Of course, gas exchange wasn't lungs-only—tissues too, enhanced by [Iron Muscle]. And 【Fighting Spirit】's blanket "endurance" boost explained its hype. Breathing muscles like diaphragm and intercostals strengthened, but lung exchange didn't get the help—Dorne's nitpicky gripe was just tedious trivia.)
A cool breeze blew on this peaceful evening.