“If we give you any more minions, we are going to have to split into two groups, just because you might one day have more bodies than we do,” joked Lockie.
“Well, I can probably solo most things my level right now, just with the amount of DPS my minions put out along with Ratatoskr tanking and Jena healing. Just going to need to replace the tainted and Varim soon,” Blake says with a grimace. “Probably wouldn't be a good idea to walk around anywhere civilised where they know who Varim is. Not with him as a minion. Might look a tad wrong to the wrong people.”
“You make a good point. We will look at replacing your minions before we go looking to complete the ring quest,” Anya agrees as she finishes eating and pushes her plate away. “I'm sure we will be fine in Tarnstead though. We should get back, we have a long way to go, and I'm sure the others are rested enough now.”
“Very true. No time like the present to grind our way through,” Lockie says, getting up.
Blake's eyes go wide as he sees everyone else get up, and he crams the rest of his food into his mouth, practically inhaling it.
Slapping Blake on the back as I move past him, I say, “Come on now, Blake, it's going to be okay. We will be back soon for a workout so you don't get all soft.”
Looking back at him as I walk to my room, I watch him snag a couple more burgers and scoff them down as he heads to his own room. Best way to burn calories is to lie down for multiple hours on end, right? Hmm.
Lying back down, I log in to the game again.
Stretching contentedly as I wake up in game, my movements cause Grace to rustle and lift her wing from covering me as she stretches out to her full length on the ground in her own stretch.
Her massive jaws open exceedingly wide, showing off her rather sharp and pointy teeth while her tongue curls back on itself in a yawn. I'm totally glad she is on my side, because that right there, while being innocent enough, is pretty darn terrifying.
Getting up and stretching again, I say loudly, “Alright, you sleepyheads. Naptime is over. Let's get a move on. I'm sure you would all like to sleep in a bed tonight instead of more forest flooring.”
“Or we could just use the tents we have in our Explorer's Bag?” Ifalna says, then turns to the others and asks, “Do the rest of you have an Explorer's Bag or a tent?”
“We do have bags with tents in them, though I think they are pretty crappy, to be honest. I'm sure I wouldn't mind an upgrade when we get somewhere that can sell us such,” Kendak says, alternating between a sorrowful expression and a massive grin.
Upgrading possessions is something that so many of us strive for. I'm not sure that we always need what we want, but that doesn't stop us from wanting it, or trying to achieve it.
“Another thing to add to the list. Anything else, or are we right to go?” I ask while eyeing the rest of them.
A chorus of acknowledgements lets me know that we are good to go, and I start to move forward towards Tarnstead, our motley crew following in my wake.
We end up following much the same routine as before; however, this time we decide to move a little quicker and take on more enemies at a time than before, now that we know how many we can handle at once. The other thing is that as we near the town, the monsters are getting weaker and losing levels.
Looks like the ones closer to the Glade are a decent level, but out here they are basically just one-shots now. At least if you are Ezekial and get critical hits and extra multipliers for being in stealth, not to mention the level discrepancy.
Moving at a steady clip, we make good time; however, it will be much better when we get our mounts. The forest gives way to rolling, grassy hills dotted with clumps of trees and plots of farming land for the last few miles. This lets us get a good look at Tarnstead as we crest a particularly large rise and it is displayed in all its glory under the moonlit night.
Torches of magic line the walkways, not exceedingly bright, but definitely making enough light on the streets to see by. Most of the buildings are either two or three stories high, with some of their windows lit from the inside. A wooden wall surrounds the entire town, with what looks like only two gates. Neither one of those gates are on the side of the forest we just came from.
I'm actually quite surprised at the size of the place, really. It looks like it would have to be roughly a mile in diameter. There must be quite a lot of people in that town, considering all the buildings.
“Hmm, it kind of looks like a whole bunch of candles floating on a river from here,” comments Ezekial softly.
“So pretty!” Sorrel sighs, clasping his hands next to his cheek and twirling around in the air while flying zigzag all over the place.
“Less sugar for you, I think. Hyperactive little squirt,” mutters Ifalna, eyeing her familiar.
“How are you all feeling, guys? Want to pitch tents here and head in tomorrow morning, or would you rather try to find an inn or other accommodation?” I ask the others, looking around at them all.
“I'm absolutely up for a warm snuggly bed,” purrs Lurra, raising an eyebrow at me with a hungry glint in her eye while twirling a short lock of her hair.
Blinking slowly, my mind shifts into the gutter as I connect what she is saying, but I freeze up, as I'm not quite sure how to react.
With a thump, making the ground tremble a little, Grace lands at my side and leans into me while staring at Lurra.
With a musical but very sultry laugh, Lurra smiles at Grace then turns and walks down the hill towards Tarnstead with an extra sway of her hips.
Looking at Grace, I raise an eyebrow. “A bit possessive, are we?”
She glares back at me before launching herself into the air with a huff.
“I can never understand how you keep doing that,” Ezekial says with a laugh.
“Do what?” I sigh, as we all start following Lurra.
“How you can go from zero to two, then back to zero in the space of a few heartbeats,” he replies with a shake of his head and a wry grin. “It honestly astounds me.”
Gazing after Lurra and then looking up at Grace, I sigh again.
Well, that just got complicated. Ugh.
We head down the hill towards Tarnstead as a group, with Lurra leading. Ifalna then points out something that makes a lot of sense.
Ifalna: Grace, you should probably stay grounded while we enter the town. We don't want any of the guards, if they have them, to think you are a monster that is attacking them. The other option is to dismiss both you and Karma.
Grace: You make a valid point.
Landing softly this time, she trails behind the group and avoids eye contact with me when I look her way.
We reach the nearest gate without a hitch and walk up to the guards manning either side of the gate. One is a dark-skinned elf, the other is a short goblin. Both are wearing dusky-coloured leather and plate while holding spears and shields.
“Hello, boys!” Lurra catcalls to them when we get closer. She waves at them as she saunters over.
I see their grins and eyes light up as I get closer with the others. They like what they see, that's for sure.
“We're new around here. Would you strapping lads be able to help us with some directions?” purrs Lurra, and they all but fall over themselves giving her the affirmative. “Well, where would I be able to get a comfy bed for me and my friends? Oh, and what time do most places close up shop here?”
“Oh, honey buns, you can rug up with me anytime! I have the softest bed at home, though you may find a few hard and pokey spots,” the goblin says slyly while wiggling his eyebrows and raking Lurra up and down with his eyes.
The dusky-coloured elf jabs the butt of his spear into the goblin's foot, drawing a wince from him.
The elf then speaks in a more respectful tone. “My lady, what Eerd here meant was that the best inn in town is the Flying Cock. They also serve the best chicken you'll ever eat outside the fancy places. Only the inns and the bank stay open all hours. The auction house and other various stores you will
find are open only during daylight hours. Though the various professions will probably have their apprentices working round the clock, depending on what jobs they have going on at the time.”
“Wonderful! How would we get to the Flying Cock and the bank tonight? Oh, and your name is?” Lurra trails the end of her sentence off while she runs a finger down the elf's breastplate.
“Folono, at your service,” Folono replies with a dark blush.
There are a couple of snickers and half-strangled giggles from the rest of the group behind me. I'm also trying really hard to keep a straight face.
He continues to speak as if he doesn't hear them, focusing entirely on Lurra and her trailing hand. “Both the bank and the inn are on this main road. The auction house is next to the bank, and the various professions are scattered throughout the town. You will probably have to ask for directions to them tomorrow, depending on where you are.”
“Such a nice man you are. Thank you for the information, Folono.” Lurra gives his armour a light tap, then glides past him through the gates.
Both of the guards turn to watch her walk away, and the rest of us go through the gates as well. Nice enough fellows, I suppose. As we are walking away, I can hear snippets of their conversation from their raised voices.
“Hard and pokey spots? Really? What are you, twelve? You frightened her off!” Folono cries.
Eerd scoffs. “My lady? What are you, some knight with a complex? Pfft, that's not how you were talking to that wench this morning.”
“Those are thin walls! You said you didn't hear anything!”
“Oh, I certainly heard everything. All thirty seconds of it.”
“You take that back!” Folono gasps so loudly I look back at them with a chuckle.
The rest of their conversation fades away entirely, and I focus on my surroundings. We are walking on a paved street between buildings that are at least two stories high made from wood, stone or brick. Some of the windows in the buildings are lit up, but not a lot of them. Alleyways and other streets connect to the one we are on periodically as we move deeper into Tarnstead.
There aren't that many people out, so I check the time to see that it's just past 22:00. Guess that would be late for most people, while we have not really been caring about what time of day it is.
Soon we are passing a few different inns with loud music and voracious laughter spilling out into the night air whenever someone opens the front doors. None of the inns here are the one we are looking for.
People of various races stumble their way out of them and wander slowly back to their homes. We walk a little quicker past a gnome heaving his guts up in an alley. A larger friend of the gnome's, also sloshed off his face, is rubbing him on the back. It looks almost like the bigger guy is using his mate to keep himself standing.
Some things just never change. Especially with the amount of realism in this game.
“Do we just want to stop here and see if they have any rooms available?” I ask everyone.
“I think they might be a bit loud for me right now. If we go in there, Kazzrak will probably convince the lot of us to neck a few drinks, and before I know it, we will be just like that gnome back there,” Ifalna says while elbowing Kazzrak and throwing a thumb in the direction of the gnome in question.
“I'm more interested in trying the best chicken in the world,” says Dosan, licking his reptilian lips and swaying his tail back and forth.
Chuckling, everyone else agrees and we move on, looking for the Flying Cock.
A block away from the last inn we passed, it looks like there may be a commotion up ahead. We pick up the pace a little to see what's going on.
As we get closer, I see that a large group of fifteen or so dark elves, goblins, trolls and ogres are jeering and taunting three other figures that they have surrounded in the middle of the street. It also looks like the large group might have quite a bit of liquid courage fuelling them.
One of the two ogres is brandishing his hefty wooden club threateningly while slurring insults and working himself and his buddies up. “We don'tsh wants your kind ofsh trouble makerings here! Thish is our towns! Rawr!”
“Yeah! Leave or we will have to get nasty—hic!” a goblin butts in, waving his dagger in the direction of the three figures.
Walking up quickly, I raise my voice a little. “Oh, hello there! Is there a parade or something I haven't been told about? What's with all the weapons being pulled on others in the middle of town? Blocking the street and all that? Surely the guards wouldn't take too kindly to this.”
The drunken thugs spin quickly at my voice, and upon seeing a group as large as their own behind me, they quickly stumble back behind the ogre with the club while eyeing us.
Now I can see the three figures who were mostly hidden from view before. The two on either side are in what looks like full plate armour without a hint of anything underneath it showing.
The left one is around my size and lean, while the right one is basically the same size as Halvard. Maybe it's also an ursine or similar race? I can't even tell if they are male or female under the armour.
The figure in the middle between the two is slightly smaller and thinner than me, wearing a full-bodied cloak with the deep hood pull up. Whoever it is looks over their shoulder at us, and all I can see are two burning white glowing eyes. The rest of their face is darkness beneath the hood.
For whatever reason, I think the person is a woman, though I can't really tell why. Must be the eyes. Seeing those eyes gives me pause for a moment; however, I don't feel any animosity coming from them.
I walk up to stand near her, and even as I do, the smaller of the two armour-clad beings intersperses himself between us.
“It's okay, Jorthun. These people appear to want to help,” the cloaked woman says in a musical and very feminine voice while laying a gloved hand on the smaller of the two armoured fellows.
Well, that answers that question.
She turns to look at me again and murmurs, “We don't need your help here. We are quite capable.”
Shrugging, I gaze into her eyes with a smile. “I'm sure you are, but they don't think so. Maybe with a more even grouping, their courage might fail them?”
She tilts her head in acknowledgement; then our conversation is interrupted by someone on the other side.
“They're ignoring us! They think we're weak! Get them!” I can't see the speaker, but the voice seems familiar for some reason. It also unfortunately has the undesirable effect of riling up the group, and with a roar they spring at us.
“Try not to kill them! Disable them!” I yell behind me as I draw my swords and enchant them with Frost Spear. Blocking the dagger of a little goblin who dashes ahead and turning it aside, I plant a solid boot into its face, sending the green try-hard bouncing back into his friends, out cold.
“One down, who wants a bootlickin' next?” I enquire jovially, spinning my blades with a flourish.
Looking around, I see everyone else is picking a target and trying to disable or pin them down. With my order of no deaths, it makes this skirmish less coordinated and more haphazard.
The woman under the cloak looks like she casts something, and I feel a rush of speed and look at my buffs. Ah, a more powerful version of haste replaces Kendak's buff.
Nice. Group haste. She must be a significantly high-levelled caster if she has that spell.
The giant armoured fellow on my right whips out his broadsword and cleaves the club coming at his head in two before shoulder checking the ogre. The big guy stumbles backwards, but doesn't go down and instead lumbers back into the fray. The armoured fellow puts away his sword and begins trading blows with the ogre.
Halvard wades into the melee and locks grips with the single other ogre, each trying to get the upper hand.
“Ha! Take this!” yells Knax from directly behind me, sending a Frost Spear into the arm of a troll wielding a sword. The sword drops from limp fingers, and the troll snatches it up with his other hand and la
unches himself at me. All the while, he is howling in rage or pain. Probably both, actually.
I block the first few thrusts and slashes before locking his blade and disarming the troll. The rage in his eyes turns to shock and then alarm as he now stands weaponless within reach of my blades. I smack him upside the head with the flat of my sword, knocking him out and watching as he slowly falls to the ground. Ha, I didn't realise the slow effect could do that with unconscious beings.
Either way, the troll collapses in a limp pile away from me with the force of the blow. Hopefully I didn't hit him too hard. I was trying to pull that one.
Looking around me, I see that half of the drunken thugs are down and out, while the rest are more skilled and require a bit more time to subdue. Turning around, I grin at Knax, whose eyes are lit up, and he looks like he is having the time of his life. He reminds me of when I was a teenager allowed to go to my first concert.
“This is so awesome!” Knax grins at me.
“Indeed, it is, little brother.” I grin right back at him before we focus on the brawl in front of us again.
Knax conjures another Frost Spear and throws it towards the mobs, aiming at an elf who is creeping through the middle of the fighting opponents. It stops less than a yard away from me though, exploding into a shower of tiny icicles as it hit something that isn't there.
What?
Before I have time to react, a shadowy figure shoves two daggers through the cloud of ice. One catches Knax in the shoulder while the other slips between my ribs. I gasp sharply at the cold tingling feeling as I lose 10 percent of my health immediately.
Definitely didn't see that one coming. I bring my blades up to strike the figure, but the shadowy figure removes both of the blades in an instant.
It vanishes before my own blades can make contact.
Three different heals hit Knax and me at the same time; however, while our health is restored, the debuff that is glaring at me is still there.
“My Cleanse isn't working. Why can't I remove the debuff?” the woman with the glowing eyes says in a shocked voice, obviously astounded.
Dream Stream Reality: Publisher's Pack Books 1-2: (A LitRPG Adventure) Page 42
