Warhammer: I, Bartor Farmer

Chapter 7 First Shopping

Without even thinking about it, Roel added the skill to the runner, and the speed of the characteristic increased by 3%, but he hasn't felt much yet.

But if you add the runners, maybe you really can't beat them that night, and those dead people can't catch up with you. Life-saving is the first thing, isn't it?
Then there are a few more after the skills, farmers and merchants, no tips, bold and careful, nonsense.

And there is a small basket next to them to circle the four skills together, and there is a new skill behind them called Peasant Knight.

The peasant trader has the effect of getting extra credits when trading with other countries.

No Tipping Effect No one will tip you when doing service jobs for you.

Boldness increases your chances of success when ambushing enemies by 10.

Bullshit will make you laugh at everything you say in a speech.

Peasant knight, when you complete something in line with chivalry, the favorability of people who know about it will be greatly increased.

There is a small print below. [I have never seen such an honorable farmer like you! 】

Roel rubbed the sparse beard at the corners of his mouth. This system is a bit interesting, but only a little bit. Then he put the rifle behind his back and walked towards the lighthouse with a few statues in his hands.

But before he had gone too far, a fruit hit him on the head. Before he could relax completely, Roel immediately drew his gun and looked back. Only at this moment did he realize that Elena was sitting there with a smirk. on a larger tree.

"Short-lived ghost, you did a good job on the first night."

"Very good at killing, compared to peasants."

As she said so, she threw two more light-colored berries, and Roel immediately caught them.

"Short-lived ghost, breakfast, thanks to the gift of the forest!"

"Your work contract arrived yesterday, and I will take you to sign it later."

Roel took a bite of the sweet and sour fruit, thinking that this guy with a distaste for integrity might have watched himself in the forest all night.

"Thank you."

He opened his mouth to thank, Elena suddenly hesitated when she descended the tree, and almost fell to the ground.

She raised her head and looked at Roel with a disgusted expression. "Short-lived ghost, why is it so nasty all of a sudden?"

After eating a fruit, Roel returned with a bit of mischief. "Because we are colleagues."

The wood elf girl shuddered and waved her hands again and again. "Enough, Lilith, why is there such a disgusting way of talking?"

The Wood Elf's social fear was aroused, but Elena wasn't too wary of Roel on the way, at least much better than when she just arrived here on the first day.

Roel also asked his own biggest question. "Elena, don't you miss home? Elves rarely leave their hometown, right?"

Elena's bouncing figure on the path stopped, and looked towards the east direction of Athel Loren Forest.

Then he said something emphatically. "Do not ask!"

Roel was unrelenting. "Well, it can be said broadly."

Elena might be annoyed. "Short-lived ghost, I saw something about the big man at home, and then I was driven away, that's all."

"Are you satisfied?!"

Roel waved his hand. "Ok, ok, I see, let's go back quickly."

Afterwards, there was nothing to talk about, until he signed the contract with the monk, Elena didn't talk to him.

After finishing his work, Roel returned to his room without taking a rest immediately. He took a piece of bread and walked towards the city of Bordero without stopping.

He came here for no other reason than to collect materials for making gunpowder, and projectiles. First of all, he found a blacksmith shop. He found the oldest shop in the city. It was not the best, but the price and quality were fair.

Most of the people who come here are farmers, and most of the things he builds are pitchforks or shovels.

The old blacksmith was not young, and he took the small lead bullet that Roel gave him and looked at it for a long time. "The thing used by the imperial people, what you kid wouldn't carry on your back is a gun handle?"

"Forget it, how about 100 decree for 1 rounds?"

Roel did some calculations, and according to the purchasing power of 1 pence for decree 20, 20 pence is equivalent to two weeks' food expenses for a peasant family.

For ordinary people, it is definitely not a small amount of money, and even a good iron sword is only about 3 statutes.

Roel was not the one who suffered. He looked around in the blacksmith shop and found a good pitchfork. "Take it, a hundred bullets and this pitchfork, a total of 2 decrees!"

The old blacksmith immediately shook his head. "Another fivepence!"

After a bit of bargaining, the old blacksmith reluctantly sold the pitchfork and bullets to Roel under the excuse that Roel wanted to find another house.

The old blacksmith didn't have any bullets in stock, so he asked Roel to come back next week to get them, and that was the end of the matter.

A large part of the reason Roel bought the pitchfork was because it was a pole weapon, which could insert people behind the bunker, and it also had 15 points of attack power.

But the introduction to it in the system is actually. [Pitchfork, don't underestimate it, it has two more heads than a spear. 】

Next, Roel came to the alchemy store. Usually, there are not farmers here, but more pharmacists.

And there aren't many stores like this in Bretonnia. If it weren't for a port city like Bordero, many materials wouldn't be available in Bretonnia.

Such as saltpeter and sulfur.

As soon as he entered the door, Roel could smell a mixture of various things, the complex smell was suffocating, and the strange incense was lit. A man in a purple robe and coat was sitting in the smoky storefront. The whole store was dark and dark. , Bottles and jars are placed in the cabinet, looking very strange.

"Sulphur, saltpeter, if you have charcoal, you can have some charcoal." Roel waved his palm to spread the smell in front of his nose.

The sorcerer or pharmacist, who is the store owner anyway, raised his brows. "Farmer?"

It has to be said that Roel wore a pair of linen clothes and a pitchfork on his back. He was not a farmer but a farmer, not to mention that he was a farmer in the first place.

Roel said. "It's the leader who asked me to run errands. He doesn't want others to know too much about this." Then he winked.

The sorcerer didn't ask questions, the peasants couldn't afford his things, and didn't need them.

"One catty of sulfur is three decrees."

"A catty of saltpeter is 4 decrees."

Roel frowned, he was only a golden crown, which had just been broken at the blacksmith, and there were still 18 decrees.

I have to give 10 decrees to the living expenses of the parents in this world, and the remaining 8 decrees, I still have to eat...

"Add sulfur to a catty of saltpeter, not too much sulfur, about one-tenth of the saltpeter!"

"And how much is the charcoal?"

The warlock took out two bags of things. "I'm not a charcoal burner, but you need good charcoal and you can buy this..."

Then he took out a beautiful box, inside a piece of pitch-black charcoal, the texture is extremely delicate, and there is a trace of fluorescence.

"This is the forest of Athel Loren, the tree in the hometown of the fairy people. Generally speaking, only the Church of the Holy Grail uses it, but there are always exceptions, aren't there?"

Roel looked at the charcoal and swallowed, adding this to the gunpowder, the strength of his self-made gunpowder would immediately increase!
The man said lightly. "6 decrees, one hundred grams!"

(End of this chapter)