by Kevin Murphy
“What do you mean you can’t change your class?” asked Letis.
“Well…” Dakkon waffled.
“Oh, come on, man, out with it. You know my shame,” demanded Letis.
“I don’t really know that much about you and I’ve got no idea what’s too much information to give away,” Dakkon said.
“Perhaps I can help you figure that out. Look, my lips are sealed, “said Letis through lips which were unconvincingly not-sealed.
Dakkon thought for a moment, then resolved, “Fine. I’ll ask your advice, Letis.”
Dakkon relayed his tale about acquiring his classes, leaving out the details about where the trest were located, although he was fairly certain the temple ruins were completely caved in on top of being difficult to find.
“Good gods, man,” said Letis, surprised.
“I wouldn’t believe you, but you’re so new to the game that I doubt you could have made it all up. Where do I start?” Letis paused for a moment to consider. “First, you were right. Don’t tell anyone about your class. That would probably be a bad move. I’ve heard that there are unique classes in the world with extraordinary powers and insane abilities. I’ve heard only recently there is a fire wielder in this area who has magic well beyond that of any normal Evoker. I’d guess that he obtained those abilities through a special class like your own. They’re rare—so rare that there isn’t anything concrete on the matter. But there certainly are incredibly powered individuals running about.”
Dakkon listened intently. So, his class was one of many unique classes, and he had been right to hesitate before speaking about it. He silently praised his own judgement, despite having shared his secret in the end.
Letis continued, “That god relic you found and destroyed was probably a lot more valuable than you’ll ever know. I’ve never heard of anything like it. There are objects that do strange things, but reviving an NPC…” Letis ran his fingers through his hair in an excited, nervous gesture. “What do you imagine the richest individuals on this continent would give to have their tragically lost spouse or heir returned to them? Forget about the crap I went through, you messed up. Bad. No two ways about it.”
Dakkon began to feel the recently smothered pain of loss rekindle again. “I know,” he said. “Believe me, I’ve given it an unhealthy amount of thought.”
“If I were your party member on that quest when you dropped that relic, I’d crucify you,” said Letis, “That’s the score of a lifetime.”
“Enough already, green thumb. I get it,” stressed Dakkon.
Letis, who had apparently lost sight of his own sorrows in the midst of Dakkon’s remembered himself and sighed.
“Is there anything else you can tell me about unique classes?” asked Dakkon, exacerbated.
“They don’t really talk about themselves very much,” said Letis. “The only reason I know about the fire wielder is that he doesn’t go out of his way to stay hidden. I’ve heard that the power is about as far away from subtle as power can get. You’d probably get better accounts from searching the internet, though. All I know is that he’s far more powerful than he has any good reason to be.”
Dakkon would search the Internet for clues, but a more immediate desire came from the rumbling of his belly. He turned to his impromptu travel companion and asked if he wanted to stop for lettuce wraps.
“Have all you want, but we’ve got to keep moving on these roads. There’s a real bandit problem in the area,” Letis warned.
“I take it you are planning to walk the road past night fall?” assumed Dakkon. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to practice my thermomancy on you…” Dakkon paused to gauge Letis’s reaction. “I could really use the practice on something alive, moving, and consenting—It’ll be warm on this cool night and I can avoid extreme temperatures.”
“Fine, do whatever,” Letis said.
“Grand,” Dakkon tossed Letis a dried meat ration and tore off a bit of lettuce for Nightshade, but the beast wanted no part of it and instead nuzzled him in a way that Dakkon could only interpret as, ‘A horse of my caliber eats apples, not lettuce.’
After a half apple of tribute and another of apology to the proud beast, Dakkon climbed atop his horse and began to warm Letis with thermomancy. He found the task surprisingly easy, so he decided to try something new—layering; and with a rounded shape rather than a box. He placed a bubble of frosty air around Letis which was met by protest that was immediately stifled by Dakkon’s raised hand. He then drew a smaller, concentric bubble of heat around the cart-pulling man. Dakkon stuck his foot in the bubble and was displeased to find that the inner Hotspot was not particularly warm. After a bit of adjustment, Dakkon realized that the temperature of the internal bubble needed to be nearly twice as strong as the exterior bubble to have the intended effect. He also found that the heat from the interior bubble weakened the effect of the exterior one. Dakkon practiced this Layering well into the night, trying variations of strength, size, and number of hotspots. Any downtime in training was filled with tidbits of conversation with Letis.
Dakkon’s progressed his thermomancy steadily. It wouldn’t be long before he reached the apex—for his purposes—of level 30.
|Secondary Class: Thermomancer – 80% Power (from multiclassing)
|Class Level: 27
|EXP Until Next Level: [__ 900/7,240 ]
|Skills:
|+Thermoregulate – 28— 50% [___________ ]
|+Heat (Touch) – 24— 87% [__________________ ]
|+Chill (Touch) – 24— 32% [_______ ]
|+Hotspot (Area) – 19— 80% [_______________ ]
|+Condense – 1— [______________________]
Letis, as it turned out, was a level 42 Paladin of Daenara. He was, as he put it, ‘done with the gods,’ however. When he left the service after his boon was bestowed upon him, he left in an incredible huff, pulling off every piece of sect-affiliated equipment he had, down to and including his tabard; and threw them onto the order’s floor before storming out. He may have burnt a few bridges.
\\\
When the pair finally arrived at Derrum, it was early morning. The two posted guards were surprised to see them traveling on the roads unescorted, and offered a sort of respectful half salute. The city was only beginning to stir, but they were allowed entry with no trouble. Letis expressed his intent to procure a new pack animal, however the long walk together had fostered a sort of kinship between Dakkon and the man, so the two registered each other as friends and—providing both were ready at the same time—they would travel to Tian together. More quickly this time.
Near the entrance to the city, a group of merchants were having their wares looked over by guardsmen. Having had such an easy time walking into the city, Dakkon’s curiosity led him to discover that the guards were examining goods to account for unknown threats and hazardous materials which they could charge a higher price for before escorting a caravan to Correndin. It was, apparently, extremely rare for anyone to be on the roads without paying for a military escort to protect from the bandits who were thick in the surrounding countryside. Dakkon was also able to pick up on a sense of unrest from a few of the merchants who were having their goods examined extra closely.
In a fleeting moment of curiosity, Dakkon asked one of the troubled merchants why the military didn’t just clear out the bandit camps, to which the merchant—dressed in extravagant purple silks—scoffed and began to let off something that he had clearly had on his mind for some time, “What, and strangle their egg-laying goose? Caravan fees make them a mint! I wouldn’t be surprised if the bandits got a cut of it all!” The tirade earned the merchant stiff glares from a few of the soldiers and other merchants which caused the emboldened man to shrink back and grow meek. Dakkon took this as a good sign to continue seeing the sights.
From his map, he could see that the city of Derrum sprawled out in a shape vaguely reminiscent of a crescent moon, with one ‘end’ pointing vaguely northeast—where they had arrived�
�and the other vaguely northwest. The clothing adorning people on the streets here was a mishmash of real world cultures. Instead of several variations of old-world European dress and armor, as was common in Correndin, there were clear Asian influences as men and ladies alike strode about draped in colorful silks woven with varying degrees of intricacy. Each piece of silk clothing showed evidence of a great deal of time and skill poured into them by the hands of patient craftsmen. Foods sold in Derrum were as varied as the clothing. There was no everything-on-a-stick stall as Dakkon had hoped, but there were plenty of other inviting options.
“The hottest new food from Tian!” one vendor proclaimed. The words and scent of sizzling meat drew a crowd, even at this early hour. Dakkon waited a few minutes and paid an extortionate five gold pieces for what amounted to a skewer piercing an alternation of crisp, rosemary and pepper rubbed potatoes and thin, honey-crusted pieces of some undiscernible, pork-like meat—all drizzled with a thin line of rich, tan-colored sauce. It was delectable. Crunchy, peppery, sweet, and savory. Dakkon didn’t know if he could justify taste testing foods at that price, but he certainly wanted to try more.
Shortly after finishing his meal, Dakkon checked his character information to see if the food gave him any bonuses, as is a common convention in other games he’d played. Sure enough, when he examined a small icon of the food he had just eaten, he saw that his maximum endurance had been increased by 20 points for three hours. Dakkon made a note to look up whether food and drink bonuses stack with other meal bonuses. He doubted it, but if he could double his stats from stuffing his face, then he’d gladly become a master chef and competition eater.
As Dakkon wandered among the vendors, he noticed a trend. Vendors flocked over in droves from the nearby city of Tian to sell their wares here. Food, clothing, and even a traveling courtesan were ‘exotic’ glimpses from a nearby city. Dakkon wasn’t sure if Tian exalted commodities from this city, Derrum, as well, but a lack of any merchants advertising local delicacies caused him to doubt it. Merchants were clearly making a killing for what must have been less than a day’s worth of travel by foot. Was this the reason there was no wayside merchant capitalizing on the needs of travelers at the major crossroads? Was the opportunity to make money here so great? Dakkon didn’t know, but he was beginning to form an idea which was, without any doubt, foolish and half baked. He sold himself by relenting that it had some small hope of turning a profit for him and his new acquaintance. Plus, it should be fun.
Dakkon thought about Lettuce which, oddly enough, was sufficient to form a telepathic link, and thought the words, “Letis. I’ve got an idea.”
After inquiries, a bit of ground work, and an obstinate objection that the plan was, ‘Just about the dumbest thing he had ever heard of,’ and was ‘bound to fail,’ Dakkon managed to convince Letis to put his skills as an actor to the test. Dakkon wanted to invest in some intricate clothing to help sell the illusion, but was persuaded that the inevitability of failure meant that sinking any money in the ruse made about as much sense as betting on the only gimped racing horse. Dakkon wasn’t convinced, but he also wasn’t going to buy the clothes with his coin alone, so he relented on the matter.
Chapter 16: Consequences
Around lunch time, Dakkon went to the finest dining establishment on the east side of town, complete with an outdoor seating area—a peculiarity in Derrum. The restaurant’s name was Appa’s Eastside, and it was known to most normal folk as ‘that place where the entitled youth gather.’ Prices at Appa’s were guaranteed to be extortionate and the latest dishes were prepared by chefs trained in Tian, which—Dakkon discovered—had a continent-spanning reputation for being at the pinnacle of culinary excellence. Tian supposedly had the finest chefs crafting the finest foods that money can buy—and supposedly some which not even money can procure for the most devout of enthusiasts.
Dakkon let his presence be known, seating himself in view of a wiry man with a balding pate, hungry eyes, and a tell-tale polished leather vest which, thanks to information gathered beforehand, identified him as Appa—owner of the establishment. As a serving girl approached him, Dakkon prepared his ruse with an internal mantra of, “Rude. Pompous. Entitled. Rude. Pompous. Entitled.” As the servant went to open her mouth, Dakkon fixed her with a snarl of a gaze. He felt the right side of his upper lip flare in indignation and he barked, “I’ll have your imperial leaf salad,” then he turned his head away from her as if all business had been concluded.
The serving girl was not unfamiliar with entitled guests, but she had never been placed in this situation before. She shuffled over to the owner for advice. Appa was about to send her back to apologize for not having something neither of them had heard of, when his eyes caught the two platinum coins casually resting on the table next to Dakkon, which he had pulled out of his coin purse while the owner and server conferred. The spindly man saw an opportunity and approached Dakkon’s table.
“Sir, I regret that I am unfamiliar with your dish of preference,” Appa began. “Our cook is the finest in the city. I am sure he will be able to make a dish meeting your expectations based on your description.”
“Well you clearly don’t have a single head of the miraculous imperial leaf lettuce. The genius chefs in Tian have ruined me. I simply can’t bother with anything less.”
“Imperial leaf lettuce, sir?” asked the owner.
“It’s a sensation,” said Dakkon in his best appalled-but-still-eager-to-tell-you-all-about-what-I-know-but-you-don’t voice. If smug were an ocean, Dakkon would be its Poseidon. “It’s icy cold to the touch, even without icing it. Once cooked, the leaves unfurl and melt I your mouth like butter. As the salad cools, the leaves crisp again, growing crunchy and crystalline,” Dakkon paused briefly, looking lost. “Damn! I was certain I would be able to have some here, so close to Tian, but even the neighbors are as backwoods as the far reaches.”
Dakkon’s uncontained voice had drawn somewhat of a crowd of spectators from the streets around them. Before Dakkon could accuse the owner that he was behind the times, a man leading a small cart filled with lettuce that was partially covered by a blanket, being pulled by a beautiful black horse passed by. Just before the extravagantly drawn cart was about to slip away unnoticed, one stranger in the crowd said, “Hey, that guy’s got cabbages.”
All eyes turned to the passing Letis, who didn’t have to try with any great effort to look uncomfortable in the situation.
“My god, man. Is that all imperial leaf lettuce?” proclaimed a convincingly shocked Dakkon.
“Ah… yes. It is… sir,” said Letis. “You know of it, sir? It seems I have been misled into believing I would be the first merchant to bring them from Tian as I had forgone the safety of caravan.”
“Merchant,” asked the owner, “I am the owner of this restaurant. May I inspect your commodity?”
“Certainly, sir,” said Letis, “but I ask that you handle them delicately, as I have invested greatly.”
As the owner of the establishment approached the cart, Dakkon dropped his hotspot, which had served to heavily deplete his mana reserve. The owner picked up a head of lettuce, and was stunned to find it frigid to the touch. He examined the cart, in search of some method of refrigeration or anything else amiss, but found nothing. Dakkon drew a Hotspot on the head of lettuce in the restaurant owner’s hand for good measure and cooled it as much as he could. The owner stared at the lettuce in his upturned palm as a plume of icy vapor rose from the vegetable and it pulsed with renewed chill.
“Merchant. Would you mind if I cut this open?” asked Appa.
“Not if that’s the final hurdle to your satisfaction, sir,” said Letis, almost too quickly considering this hadn’t been accounted for in the plan.
The owner grinned, pulled a knife from his belt and sliced the lettuce in half. Dakkon immediately reformed his Hotspot on the two halves, sighing his relief as the owner nodded his approval after a one-fingered probe.
Appa turned to his server, ins
tructed her to take down the specifics of what Dakkon wanted for his meal, then pulled Letis aside to dicker over cost. The scene had generated enough interest that there would certainly be demand for the lettuce—even after the owner found out it was a ruse. While Letis made his sale, Dakkon labored over the specifics of the dish, lavished over details, retracted them entirely, then reinstated them again in a confusing blur until after the owner left and returned with two assistants. Money changed hands and the assistants gingerly picked the heads of lettuce up and transported them to the kitchen’s storeroom. As soon as Letis walked out of eyeshot, Dakkon cried out in a final tirade, “What! Do you want me to cook it for you, too!” and then stormed off, both platinum pieces securely in hand.
Soon, after making good on his word to tip the bystander who had just barely pointed out that Letis was passing by with a cart full of lettuce, Dakkon met with Letis at their predetermined location near a man with livestock for sale on the bottom side of the town’s crescent-moon center.
“What have we done?” asked Letis from a state like shellshock.
“We just sold some lettuce,” said Dakkon. “Nothing to get worked up over.”
“What if we get in trouble!”
“For what?” Dakkon asked, genuinely curious.
“I don’t know. Racketeering?” suggested Letis.
“In a video game?” asked Dakkon. “I feel like we just completed a quest.”
“I feel like we just hustled an established, wealthy member of this community with a ruse that will be uncovered in literal minutes,” said Letis.
“That’s exactly what we did,” agreed Dakkon.
“I don’t think you understand,” said Letis. “There will be repercussions for this. They’ll find us, drag us into a locked room, torture us until we pay up, then finish us off. If they figure out we’re players and respawn, they’ll find us and do it all over again.”
