Village of Noobtown: A LitRPG Adventure (Mayor of Noobtown Book 2)

by Ryan Rimmel

  “Meat is getting pretty hard to come by,” he stated. “I’m having real difficulty getting a supply of quality beef.”

  “This is rat,” stated Badgelor, as he scarfed down the second one. “Delicious, tasty rat.”

  “I have some dried meat with me. Maybe we could trade.” I offered

  “Well, stranger, I don’t know. I only accept quality meet from the best sources,” replied the vendor. He couldn’t understand Badgelor. Consequently, he had no idea that I knew what he was actually serving.

  I set my pack down on a nearby barrel and flipped it open. I’d taken a small amount of meat from the pumas we’d killed. With my Improvised Tools skill and some local herbs, I’d been able to crudely preserve the meat. It wouldn’t last more than a few days, but … he was serving rat.

  His eyes went wide. “That’s quite a bit of meat. I could easily give you two or three pies for that.”

  I sighed and looked at him. “No, I’ll give you all of this. In exchange, you’ll give me…” I looked down at Badgelor, who was still drooling at the hot meat, “All of your meat pies, and all the coins you have on you.”

  I got a prompt.

  You have learned about Trading. You are unskilled. A man with a silver tongue has a full wallet.

  I was half expecting him to protest. Instead, he immediately reached for his money pouch. We shook on it, before he poured the meager contents of the pouch into my hands. I quickly counted the 22 silver and 38 copper, while he grabbed at the meat like it was gold. Business must be slow when you are serving rat meat.

  I noticed that he didn’t ask what kind of meat it was or where I’d gotten it. He didn’t seem to care how old it was, either. I wondered how tight food was around here, as I grabbed two meat pies. Badgelor started scarfing down one right after another. Rat tasted like gamey chicken, but at least it wasn’t a damn feline.

  Now, I needed clothes. Checking my own money pouch, I counted 8 gold, 109 silver and 14 copper. Grabbing the last two meat pies over Badgelor’s very loud protests, I scanned the nearby crowds. It was then that I realized my mistake.

  People had been ignoring me, up until I’d pulled food out of my magical knapsack of puma skins. I knew from just a glance that no one here had been fed enough in days. Some of the kids looked better than others, but some of the children looked particularly poorly.

  A young girl with red hair sat watching the road that led through the town’s square. She was holding a doll on her lap, and I shuddered as I realized that she bore a striking resemblance to my daughter. I walked past her and handed her one of my two remaining meat pies. She all but snatched it from me as soon as I’d offered it. There was a speed to the girl that I wouldn’t have thought possible.

  “What is your name?” I asked.

  “Voan,” she said, in between bites. While I was standing there, she was left alone by the crowds.

  I knew that if I walked off, that meat pie was as good as gone. There were too many hungry people around that were bigger than her. She wasn’t the only one who needed help, either, but I couldn’t help everyone. Maybe I could help her.

  “What happened to you?” I asked, dropping down to one knee in front of her.

  “Mommy said we were coming to the town to be safe. There were bad men and she said she was going to distract them and then get away. She said she’d be here, but I got lost,” she sniffled. “I’ve been here a long time, and mommy still isn’t here.”

  I got a quest.

  Help Voan find her mother. Reward: Experience

  I slipped into menu time. “Can you find her mother, Shart?”

  The demon congealed into my vision, briefly kicking several letters on my character sheet out of place. “It will be expensive.”

  “Mana or personal?” I asked.

  “Dunno, maybe both,” replied the little asshole. Being good is hard and sometimes requires you to make some pretty difficult choices. Do you help out a little girl when it's going to cost you dearly?

  Returning to normal time, I looked at her for another moment. She ate the meat pie as quickly as possible. I had done all I could for now. She wasn’t from around here and would be of no use to me with what I needed.

  Standing and walking over to a larger group of people, I waited until their conversation died down. “I have a meat pie for whoever can walk me around the town. If you do a good job, I can get more.”

  Chapter 26: Blots

  There was a young man that had traveled in and out of Narwal for years. He was just the right combination of loud and desperately hungry. After I got his word that he’d guide me, I handed the prized pie over to him. I was slightly concerned that he’d just sit back down when he was done feasting, but apparently giving your word carried some weight around here. Plus, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do.

  “What’s your name?” I asked, as we walked out of the crowd.

  “Blots,” he replied. So, only one name for the people here, perhaps.

  “Alright, Blots,” I said, “Where are some leatherworkers?”

  He nodded, and we started off through the city. Outside the square, by the gate, there were far fewer people on the streets. Windows were closed, and there was a dreary, oppressive aura surrounding the town.

  “How did you end up here?” I asked, as we walked towards the center of town.

  Blots continued walking for a moment, heading towards an ornately carved fountain. The fountain itself featured a whale shooting water out of its horn. As we neared, I discovered the water was not clean. It was a muddy brown color with particles of...something...floating in it.

  “Pretty normally, I guess. My family trades herbs with the local apothecary, so we come into town fairly often. HarCharles’ forces have been attacking North River, and, about three months ago, my village was overrun. We fled this way.”

  As we reached the fountain, Blots looked around for a moment, his nose wrinkled in disgust. There was the odor of unbathed grossness about the murky water. Then, Blots headed towards the north gate, before continuing. “Honestly, I had hoped to be further away from the conflict than this. Lord Dookie hasn’t let anyone take the south road to go deeper into the Kingdom.”

  “Lord Dookie,” I stated, “Strange name.”

  “Oh, he’s a southerner,” replied Blots, as if that instantly clarified it.

  “I didn’t realize,” I stated.

  We finally hit the leatherworking shops. There were several in a town this large, all clustered together. How convenient.

  Most buildings were built right up to the road with a small wooden sidewalk of sorts. The majority of the road was reserved for carts. The first shop had the image of a large bull engraved over its door. It had bright red painted tiles on the roof and a deep brown colored wood for the walls. There were several large windows with shutters, also painted red.

  I noticed the windows had no glass and squinted my eyes for a closer inspection. They didn’t even have the capacity to hold glass. The shutters must have been closed during the winter months to keep the heat in, but not letting in the stinky breezes of the town was preferable to the spring heat now. I imagined the heat in Windfall would be the same as here, if not for my village’s proximity to the ocean.

  I opened the door and walked into the familiar smell of leather.

  “Greetings,” stated the presumable owner, as he watched me enter.

  The man at the counter was a darker skinned man, with thick arms and an even thicker waist. He watched, as Badgelor entered the shop first and scurried over to sniff a corner. I had a small issue getting through the doorway with my oversized pack, but finally made it, with only a moderate amount of jostling.

  “Hello,” I stated, glancing around. His stock was less than what I had expected for such a nice shop. “Are you buying or just selling?”

  He watched me for a moment, his eyes lighting up when he saw the puma skins on my back. “I could be buying, depending on the price.”

  I pulled down one
of the skins and let him inspect it. “How much is a puma skin worth, locally?”

  “Where did you get that?” he asked, looking over the skin.

  “Where do you think?” I replied.

  “The Eastern Forest, probably,” stated the merchant. “It’s full of them.”

  “You guys call that place the Eastern Forest?” I asked.

  “Well, it's east of here,” he replied, looking at a second skin.

  “I bet that means that on Earth, you weirdos would call it the Western Forest,” snarked my shoulder demon. He had been relatively quiet since we arrived. It figured that he would recover just in time to mock my home, again.

  “It's full of pumas. You should call it by what it's known for,” I said.

  “What would you call it, then?” he asked.

  “The Fecking Puma Forest,” I replied.

  “Yes, that certainly does make more sense,” he said, pausing a moment, before flipping another skin over and looking at the bottom.

  “I need to know how much you are willing to pay for puma skins,” I said. Given everyone’s earlier reaction, I was concerned that no one would be willing to wear the skins of the hated beasts. Hopefully, they would be desperate enough for supplies that even these would have some value. The puma meat had proved valuable, already. In that situation, though, I doubted people would ever know - or care - where their meal was sourced from. When you are starving, any food is good food, even if your vendor is sketchy.

  “Well, that depends on the condition,” he replied.

  I received another prompt.

  You have learned the skill Appraise. You are unskilled. You can tell the value of items by examining them and learning about local conditions. It's worth what I say it is.

  I looked at the puma skin. I could see a few microscopic flaws that I hadn’t been aware of before. Overall, the quality was still good. The item was valued at 8 silver (4 silver base +100% for local scarcity). Knowing what the actual price should be seemed pretty handy.

  “I was thinking 8 silver, each,” I replied.

  You have learned the skill Trade. You are unskilled. You can command better prices for the goods that you are buying and selling. Have I got a deal for you!

  The shopkeeper’s face scrunched up, as he looked at the skin. “Well, I dunno about that. Look here, and you will see flaws all over the skin. I don’t think I could buy them for more than 2 silver each.”

  Thus, we got to haggling. Amazingly, it turned out that the store merchant was significantly better at it than I was. Despite knowing that the goods were worth 8 silver and having what appeared to be the only supply of them, he still managed to talk me down to 2 silver 80 copper, each.

  I switched over to menu time. “Shart, why do I feel like I have to agree to sell these skins for such a pittance. I should be able to name my price.”

  “Oh, he’s way better at trading than you, Dum Dum,” replied the demon. “He’s a Journeyman Trader, and you are still unskilled.”

  “How do you level Trading?” I asked, already regretting it.

  Shart sighed loudly. “You trade things, you blithering moron. Here’s a bit of knowledge, if you are capable of retaining it. Everything is based on the value you paid for the good. Since you collected these yourself, you are going to get the full 2.8 skill points per item.”

  “Glorious,” I stated, checking my sheet. I had figured out how to turn off skill points pretty quickly, as seeing them was generally more annoying than useful. I glanced over the skill list. I needed 50 SP, or Skill Points, to advance to Amateur. Well, if that’s the best I could do.

  Dropping out of menu time, I said, “Alright, I see your point. I agree to the sale.”

  The merchant grinned. The wide man was almost rubbing his hands together in glee. I took 18 skins off my pack and handed them to him. He waited a moment, and then his grin faded slightly, as I tied up my pack and threw it back on my shoulders. Shart bristled at being disturbed up there but screw the little twat.

  “I was expecting all of them,” the shopkeeper stated.

  “You said the quality was poor,” I replied. “I’d hate to burden you with so much poor stock. I’ll just take my silver and go.”

  While I couldn’t set my own price, I could set my own quantity. So, I’d sold just enough to get me to the next rank of the Trading skill. He grumbled but couldn’t really do anything about it.

  “Any chance you’d be willing to sell the badger?” he asked. “He’s got very nice fur.”

  I was about to comment when Badgelor expanded to full size and glared at him. Despite the man’s darker complexion, he went white. Having a Great Dane sized badger looking at you with murder in his eyes was enough to shut anyone up.

  I collected my 50 silver and 40 copper and went to the next leatherworker.

  I repeated that process until I cleared out the other 61 skins I could sell. One was of poor quality. I more or less gave it away. A homicidal badger doesn’t produce the cleanest kills, and the animal pelts are poor. I’d stopped trying to skin Badgelor’s kills after the second one had fallen apart in my hands. In the end, I sold the first batch of 18 for 2 silver, 80 copper per skin, the second batch of 49 for 4 silver 10 copper per skin, and the final batch of 12 for 6 silver per skin. I ended up with 3 gold, 23 silver and 30 copper, and initiate rank in Trading.

  Next, I went to a tailor and, for the price of 20 silver, got some clothes that didn’t smell like week old sweat. Nothing much to talk about there. I tried to buy Badgelor a sweater, but he threatened to murder me after destroying all I held dear.

  Of course, when Badgelor refused, Shart decided he HAD to have one. Eventually, I acquiesced, just to make Shart stop whining in my ear. He put far too much thought into what color he wanted, but finally made a choice. He cared way too much about having something Badgelor didn’t, and it reminded me of the sibling rivalry between my children. I couldn’t wait to tell Shart he couldn’t actually wear his new apparel. People would freak if they saw a floating sweater next to me.

  For our next stop, Blots guided me to a blacksmith shop. I didn’t really need the help, considering the familiar ringing of the hammer on the anvil. It had become my impromptu alarm clock back in Windfall. The smith was a mountain of a man, thick armed, thick shouldered, with a thick red beard. The fiery facial hair was singed in places, as was his thick apron. The man was just thick, all around.

  “I need a sword sharpened,” I stated. I took my sheathed sword off my side and set it on the counter.

  He walked over to inspect it. “That’s a fine quality blade here. Looks well used, though.”

  “It's the only weapon that I have that survived the Fecking Puma Forest.”

  He looked puzzled for a moment, then nodded. “Ah, the Eastern Forest. I don’t know why we still call it that. It's full of fecking pumas. I’m Krung the Smith.”

  “I’m Jim,” I replied.

  Krung looked at me for a moment, “Well, it's not a man’s name, but his actions, that show the world his worth.”

  “I get that a lot,” I replied, as Shart and Badgelor both snorted. “How long to fix the sword?”

  He set it on the counter. Suddenly, I saw the weapon’s information hovering over it. I usually saw that only if I actually examined something. This time, it simply appeared, no Lore skill needed.

  You have found: Soldier’s Longsword. Damage 0-4(base 2-8 damage, >10% Durability, -50% Damage, Durability 8 /80, Durable, Enduring

  I looked at the counter.

  Merchant’s Counter: Items placed on this counter will have their full effects displayed for all to see. A counter will show information based on the merchant’s skills.

  That was neat. I wondered if the shops in Windfall had those types of counters. Thinking back to all the shops I had visited in Narwal, they all seemed to have one. None of the Leatherworks had used theirs in my presence, though. Maybe it was fairly standard. Then again, maybe not. My shopping experiences were limited to Windfall and N
arwal. I’d have to investigate it.

  “You see, here? It has the Durable and Enduring effects on the weapon,” started Krung, as I nodded. “That was fairly standard a few hundred years ago, out in the valley. It makes the weapons really hard to damage. Even now, they survive.

  “That makes sense,” I stated. I briefly glanced through his stock and was surprised to see a variety of effects on the weapons. Sharp and Fast were most common. Most were also Honed. A few were Durable or Enduring, but nothing seemed to be both.

  “Durable weapons have double normal Durability, so, your sword should only have 40 Durability. Instead, it has 80. Enduring halves Durability Damage, so, it takes twice as much to damage the weapon. The problem is that this makes the sword a double enhanced weapon. Those take some real skill to repair,” he said, continuing the examination.

  “Are you skilled enough?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he replied. “Which brings me to the second point. They are also expensive to repair. Two gold,” he stated, eyeing me appraisingly.

  “It's only 90% broken. That should only be 1 gold 80 silver,” I declared.

  “I agree to your price,” he said, holding out his hand. My eyes went wide. I named a price and he accepted it. So, by the arcane rules of Ordinal, I was compelled to accept his offer. It wasn’t a terrible price, but my Trade skill should have offered a price significantly under his.

  “You idiot,” laughed the demon. “He started haggling at 2 gold, and you started haggling at 1 gold 80 silver. He was expecting around a gold, give or take. Since you started your offer too high, like an idiot, he just took it.”

  I shook his hand and chalked it up to a new skill learned. Trade was important but being tricky was always more so.

  I did use my Trade skill on several of his other blades, which he was happy enough about. Sales were slow right now, and, in the end, I spent 2 gold and 40 silver in his establishment. I was now outfitted with Sharp shortswords and Fast Daggers.