by G. R. Cooper
“Yeah. Snorri is absolutely going to love this thing.”
Wulfgar looked up at Rydra, who was holding his hands forward, wiggling his fingers in the air. On the thief’s hands were a pair of beautifully worked leather gauntlets. They were a soft brown, with black stitching, and went from a tight fitting over the hands to a tied wrist strap. Rydra pulled them off and tossed them to Wulfgar.
Gauntlets of Alacrity. Reduces the time to craft an item by three quarters. Usable by Tailors, Blacksmiths, Fletchers, Woodworkers and Chefs. Rare.
“A little something something for Lauren from me,” chuckled Rydra.
Wulfgar smiled at him and nodded, “She’ll put them to great use!”
“And for you!”
Rydra tossed a small sack onto the bed. Wulfgar picked it up and examined it.
Sack of Herbs. Each herb or natural magical reagent placed within this bag gets ten uses. Rare.
“Natural reagent?” Wulfgar looked at Rydra, one eyebrow raised.
“No idea, man,” he chuckled, “I just steal the stuff, I don’t make it!”
“Hmmm,” pondered Wulfgar, “I guess it means just the normal magical reagents. Herbs, plants, whatever. Stuff like heart of the Revenant wouldn’t be effected.”
“Sounds reasonable. Worth an experiment or so.”
Wulfgar nodded and tied the sack to his sword belt, and shifted it until it was hanging off his right hip.
From his old reagent sack, he pulled out one goat’s rue, one motherwort and one mountain mint. He placed them in the Sack of Herbs. He tossed his old reagent sack back onto the bed, ensuring it wasn’t part of the experiment.
Turning toward the fireplace, he held out his right hand and shot a fire ball into the fireplace. It exploded harmlessly onto the brickwork. He looked into the sack and saw that the three herbs still lay within.
After a second or two, his mana rose enough that he was able to shoot another fireball. A second check of the sack showed the undisturbed reagents. Wulfgar reached into the sack and pulled out the motherwort. As soon as it left the bag, it disappeared from his hand.
Wulfgar nodded, looking up to Rydra, “OK. Looks like the reagent will last for ten uses, but only if it remains in the bag.” He smiled, “So you can’t try to fool the system and pull the herbs back out after only a few uses.”
“Still,” he continued, nodding to Rydra in thanks, “this is a very useful gift, my friend. Thank you.”
“Not a gift! You earned it. Your share of the haul.”
“But what are you taking? All of this seems to be a bit one sided in my favor,” he swept his hand over the loot.
Rydra smiled, “Not all.” He pulled out a short, elaborately decorated black wand. “This I am keeping for myself.”
Wulfgar raised an eyebrow.
“It’s a Wand of Identification. That’s how we are able to read what each of these fine objects are. It reveals the true nature of any object, and that information is permanently available for all players to read. It comes in handy not only for knowing what to steal, but helps get the best price in sale.”
“Handy indeed,” agreed Wulfgar, emptying his old reagent sack into his new one. “I’m worried,” he said to his friend, “about how defenseless we are right now. Until we get the wall finished, anyone can just ride into town and attack us. These gifts will help with that, I think.”
“This, however,” said Rydra, “I have no idea about.” He tossed a loose deck of large cards onto the bed.
Wulfgar gathered them into a stack and began to flip through them. Each had pictures out of Hieronymus Bosch’s worst nightmares. He examined the stack.
Deck of Tarot. Unique.
“That sounds, uhm, ominous.”
“Next thing to a Ouija board,” agreed Rydra. “As I said, I have no idea. No clue what it’s for. How it’s used. Anything at all, really,” the thief shrugged.
“Maybe our Corwin can get something out of it,” said Wulfgar, thinking back to the outrageous luck Corwin had in their game of Texas Hold ‘em.
Rydra nodded, “If nothing else, it seems a fine gift.”
“Shannon,” said Wulfgar. “There seems to be nothing for Shannon.”
Rydra nodded again, “I ran out of time and space. Tell her that our next excursion will give her first priority.”
Wulfgar frowned, “She’ll be OK with it. I just wish I had something for her.”
Wulfgar left Rydra’s apartment after the two had made rendezvous plans for the night. He made his way to Lauren’s shop, carefully avoiding the north-west gate and any guard posts. He thought he noticed a few wayward looks in his direction, but couldn’t decide if he was just being paranoid. As far as he knew, his ‘rebellion’ wasn’t yet common knowledge.
He sidled into Lauren’s shop and looked around. Even though she hadn’t been here for many days, he could still almost feel her presence. He smiled. Looking through the shop, he really didn’t see anything that she would need that her new shop in Marchstone didn’t already have, but he reached to her top shelf and pulled down her magical hammer.
The hammer, which added ten levels to the smith’s Imbuing skill for five uses, had four uses left. Lauren had used it to add a fifty percent chance of inflicting poison damage - damage which was then applied to the wielder as healing - to Wulfgar’s short sword, Shepherd’s Bite. He pushed the hammer into his backpack and made sure there was nothing else in the place that Lauren would want.
He looked around the shop, smiling at the memories he’d had there, and left. Closing the shop door, he worked his way back into the crowded street.
As he moved through the masses of NPCs, he thought to the conversation, the questions, that Rydra had asked him. What did he want? What did anyone want? Freedom. Self determination. For too many - he thought of Tim’s ambitions against his own - that seemed to include leading others. That was not something that interested Wulfgar. He was happy to be part of a team, and he recognized that a team needed a leader; but he was used to a more egalitarian role. As a project manager, he’d always understood that providing incentive worked best. Would that continue for a “King”?
He didn’t see why not.
He had always felt that once you understood a person’s motivations, you were well on your way to understanding them at their core. That understanding was a requirement for a leader.
As much as he liked his new friends, especially Lauren and Snorri, he wasn’t sure, yet, that he understood their motivations. He decided he had to work on that.
Shannon, he thought, was the only person in this entire world that he felt he could absolutely trust. At least, as long as she really was completely Shannon. Clive had previously predicted that she might have not been resurrected whole. That some part of her might not have translated into this world.
Nothing he’d seen had given him any indication that she wasn’t wholly and completely the person he’d been friends with for years outside of the Omegaverse. But how could he know? Clive’s word was suspect. Wulfgar understood that Clive was studying him. Using him. For what end, he didn’t know, but he knew that the King of Edonis was not among those he could trust, even if his ends were benign.
Wulfgar shook his head. He had a lot of thinking to do; and he realized that he probably never would be sure about anyone. At some point he’d have to decide. To trust both himself and some others.
He looked up and read a sign, then smiled and entered a shop.
One of the things Wulfgar knew he needed for Marchstone were the conveniences that players expected of their home base. Lauren provided the Blacksmith services, necessary for item creation and repair. The NPC John Tailor provided a similar service.
Wulfgar looked up at the sign he was now standing under.
Enquire Arenis’ Food Shoppe.
He smiled. Player necessities were only one aspect of the equation - luxuries were another great draw for a new town. He remembered the amazing meals that he’d had, thanks to Snorri, on their trip out
to Marchstone, and the delectable food and drink that had been sourced at this very store.
Enquire Arenis was already something of a legend among the players of Edonis. He put every single skill point into the skills required for the creation of incredible delectable delights, and Wulfgar was sure that the man was making a small fortune doing so.
How, however, to entice the man into coming and setting up shop in what was surely a risky venture?
Wulfgar walked through the ornately carved front door, pushing on the bas relief cornucopia dripping with wheels of cheese, bunches of grapes and bottles of wine. A small bell rang as the door brushed past it. The smell of aged meat, cheese, beer, and wine hit his nose like a soft hammer, immediately making his mouth water. He saw a large flank of what looked like beef, dry aging in the corner. Several large racks of wine flanked the doorway. Half size kegs were stacked along one wall.
“Welcome!” boomed a deep voice from within, “Welcome to Enquire Arenis’ Food Shoppe!” A large, dark man winked as he spread his arms wide. He was as tall as Wulfgar and if anything even more muscular, but with the added girth of someone who sampled his wares a bit too often.
“I know, I know,” Enquire chuckled, “everyone asks the same thing. In this world, we can have whatever body we want, so why aren’t I zero percent body fat?” He laughed again, “Because, would you trust a skinny chef?”
Wulfgar smiled back, liking the man instantly. The light from several torches on the shop walls glittered off of Enquire’s completely bald scalp, and the white of his teeth shined through a short, dark beard.
“Besides,” he continued, “I have here a little recipe that will allow you to change your body type, up to a point.” He held up a brown, round chocolate truffle, “Won’t make a human into an orc, or make a man into a woman, but it can add or remove muscle or fat. He chuckled, “A dessert that can make you skinny, ain’t this a wonderful world?” He laughed loudly at his joke.
“Get a lot of demand for that?”
Arenis shook his head, “Nope. None in fact. Most people, I reckon, pick the shape they like before coming into this world. Besides,” he winked, “it’s expensive as shit! The ingredients are pretty rare. I haven’t priced this out yet, but it’d probably be a couple of gold.”
“Why make it then?”
“High difficulty. Best way to raise your skill level. Gained half a level from this batch alone. If I had a stack of ingredients, I’d make these things all day long.”
A little girl ran into the shop from a back room, “I’m hungry daddy!”
Arenis hugged the girl and handed her a piece of jerky, “Go play, sweetheart, daddy’s got a customer.”
The girl smiled up at Wulfgar, who waved and smiled back, then stuffed the meat into her mouth and ran back through the door, slamming it in four year old exuberance.
“Daughter?” asked Wulfgar.
Enquire Arenis nodded, “Aubrianna. NPC. Street kid. Found her wandering around alone. She reminded me of my little girl back,” he paused, “you know. Before.” He frowned.
“Before. Yeah,” answered Wulfgar.
Arenis busied himself wiping up the counter, and sighed, “Anyway. She kind of latched onto me and, to be honest, I’ve grown to love her as well. It’s good to be a daddy again,” he looked up at Wulfgar, “and the weird part is that it seems like she’s adapting as well.”
“How?”
“Little ways. Like, maybe it’s my imagination, but every day she looks a little more like my other daughter.”
Wulfgar smiled at that. Any man who could come to love an NPC and think of it as a real daughter couldn’t be all bad.
“I just wish she had some room. This city really isn’t much of a place for a kid. She needs to play, and not,” he thrust a thumb over his shoulder towards the rear of the store, “in the back room of Enquire Arenis’ Food Shoppe.”
Wulfgar nodded, filing that information away for later.
“Anyway,” smiled Arenis, wiping his hands on his apron, “what can I do for you this fine day?”
Wulfgar shrugged, “Honestly, I don’t know. Buddy of mine gave me some of your tasty grub a while back and I loved it so much I came in to see the shop.”
“Buddy?”
“Snorri. Viking dude.”
The shop keep smiled, “One of my best customers. Haven’t seen him in a bit, though.”
“He’s relocating. You hear about that new kingdom that’s being established out west, in the mountains?”
“Yah. Rumors mainly. Some guy got control of a little village. Plans to setup his own little player town.”
“Crazy, right?”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Arenis shrugged, “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen? King Clive kicks his ass out and he loses?” He shrugged again, “Seems like a pretty good risk versus reward situation.”
“I certainly hope you’re right.”
“I thought you might, Wulfgar,” laughed Arenis. “I thought you might.”
“You know me?”
“Well, as I said, I had heard about the little kingdom being setup. I heard it was being done by some guy named Wulfgar. I saw your character sheet,” Wulfgar mentally kicked himself for forgetting about that - they were, after all, still in a game world - “and I did the math. Two plus two. It’s not exactly differential calculus!”
The two of them laughed.
“Guilty. I’m the guy. You have a donut or something that can change my name?”
Arenis laughed, walking from behind the counter, “No. Not yet, anyway. Haven’t seen that recipe. But let me show you what I do have.” He walked into an aisle between two rows of shelves. Wulfgar followed, looking over the various shelves and baskets.
“No baked goods?”
“Not yet. I’m focusing on this stuff for now, I’ll add Baking to my skills later. It’s much harder to raise. Takes a lot of time. I wanted to make sure I got a high skill in as many skills as quickly as possible.”
Wulfgar nodded.
“What we do have here,” Arenis said, pointing out the shelves to the left, “are your various attribute buffs. Jerky to increase strength. Cheese that boosts intelligence. Et cetera, et cetera,” Arenis emphasized each syllable of ‘et cetera’.
“To your right, we offer resistance and skill buffs,” he waved his right arm toward the wall. “The front of the store is just shit that tastes good,” he laughed. “What is it that we can help you with today? Which of these are you looking for?”
“All of it,” grinned Wulfgar.
Arenis’ right eyebrow rose.
“That’s a lot of bank, my friend.”
Wulfgar waved his hands, “Let me explain. What I’m looking for is someone like you who’d be interested in joining my little experiment. I’m looking to have a shop like this,” he spread his hands wide, “to open in Marchstone.”
“Someone like me? There’s nobody like me,” smiled Enquire Arenis.
“That’s why I’m here. I imagine that you have a lot of down time. That you can make a lot of inventory very quickly. That you don’t really need to spend all of your time here, in this shop, just waiting for sales, but that you do so because you don’t go on adventures so that you don’t have much else to occupy your time.”
“Right so far.”
Wulfgar smiled and took a piece of jerky out of a basket on the shelf. He popped it in his mouth - Korean barbecue, his favorite - and began chewing.
“Your strength has increased +2 for two hours!”
“Well,” continued Wulfgar scratching his beard, “I was kind of hoping that you’d be the guy. That you’d be interested in having a little farm of your own. You could grow whatever you need. You’d have room to breath,” he thought of the little girl, “even room to play.”
“Yeah. I get it. My daughter would be better served living there,” Arenis laughed, “but you’re going to have to learn to be more subtle if you’re going to be a king.”
Wulfgar bowed in ack
nowledgment, “Point taken. But there’s more. Not just can you have a farm and open up a shop in town, I really don’t care if you keep this shop open as well,” whether King Clive would be happy with the situation, Wulfgar didn’t care to speculate upon, “so you’ll have something more to keep your time busy.”
Arenis nodded, stroking his short beard in thought, “That would not be a bad thing.” He looked around, “I can hire an NPC to run this shop and, in truth, can hire someone to haul my goods here. I don’t really need to return here often. Or at all.”
“Plus,” added Wulfgar quickly, raising his right index finger to accentuate his point, “I need some further help. All of the other players are adventurers. I need some more stability for the town.”
Arenis looked at Wulgar, narrowing his eyes in interest.
“I need a mayor. And it needs to be someone who’s not going to be running off on quests like myself and the rest of the adventurers.”
“So you’re appointing me mayor?”
“Lord Mayor. Pro tempore. One of your first jobs would be to come up with a constitution or a magna carta that determines how the town is run. Including elections. But,” Wulfgar cocked his head and smiled, “I can pretty much assure you that the player residents will vote for you.”
“And as king, you’re not above using your influence to sway the NPC vote?”
Wulfgar smiled.
“Well what do you say? Interested.”
“Maybe. I’ll think on it.”
“Just show up. The offer is open unless you hear otherwise. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Yeah.”
“What?”
“That’ll be two coppers for the jerky.”
“Heather, my love!” Wulfgar beamed as he approached the shop counter. The smells of the herbalist’s played and mingled in his nostrils. A wizened lady erupted from between two reagent sacks and leapt toward him. Her arms wrapped around his thighs in a bear hug as the short woman pressed her cheek into Wulfgar’s belly.
