EIGHTEEN
Clint helped Mary study a little more the following day before they logged back into Unexplored. They were tempted to spend more time watching movies and making corny jokes, but their characters were lost in the middle of the woods, and they wanted to get back to Krug as soon as they could.
They appeared in the game as Cleave and Tarka and studied the map they were given by the elves. To their surprise, they found the area where they’d run to on the map and figured out an easy way to get back to town.
The journey back to the main road was a very careful one. They endeavored to stay away from the troubled areas that were marked on the map and kept an eye out for any danger. They saw many strange creatures that they’d never seen before, but these beasts were small and ran away from Cleave and Tarka.
It took them half a day to reach the city of Clearwater. Tarka and Cleave hid the jewels they’d received from the elves inside their breastplates.
The guards carefully went through Cleave’s belongings and frisked him twice. They asked many times if he had any intention to use his sword on the inhabitants of the city. His firm but calm responses that he had no intention to harm anybody eventually convinced the guards to let him pass.
The guards gave Tarka’s belongings a cursory search before sending her through. Cleave was a bit miffed that she got off so easy but was happy that they didn’t find their elven jewelry.
Elf and kobold quickly rushed to the High Tide inn, hoping Krug was still there. Sure enough, when they went to his room the found him, holding his stomach and lying on the floor. He wore his armor and his shield and warhammer lay beside him. However, his pack was missing.
“Krug, you okay?” Cleave said.
“Ugh,” Krug said and curled up. “Respawn sickness. A complete day of hell. Don’t get killed or the game will make you go through it.”
Tarka looked away. “I’m sorry you died.”
“I’m not. If I didn’t, you guys would have been screwed.”
“Thank you for saving our lives,” Cleave said.
“It’s nothing,” Krug pressed a beefy hand over his mouth for a second. “Okay, well it’s a bit of severe pain, but I’ll get over it. At least we got the ring, right?”
The kobold shook her head. “No, we didn’t.”
“What?”
“The ring isn’t the one Bitterroot sent us after. It’s some ring called The Ring of Nightwalker. It does cool stuff, but it wasn’t do what we wanted.”
“That blows,” Krug moved to a sitting position and pressed his palm into his forehead.
“It feels like we did all of that for nothing,” Cleave said.
“Not really. It just means we need to keep searching. We did find out something useful.”
“Yeah, that asshat Padwin is here,” Tarka said.
“Aside from that, do you guys remember what the skeleton in the Crypt said?”
“He said, uh,” Cleave racked his brain. The fight with Padwin and the situation with Clearwater had pushed all other thoughts from his mind. When he heard the skeleton’s voice again he snapped his fingers.
“He said he was going to kill Devdan Erwynn.”
“Precisely. Seems odd that Devdan Erwynn would want to kill himself, doesn’t it?” Krug said.
“There’s something weird about that tomb,” Cleave said, “but I think Padwin is really what we should be worried about. If he’s around, then that probably means the Crimson Kingdom is sticking their noses in where they don’t belong, and Tarka and I have an idea where.”
“I thought about that, too.” Krug paused in thought. “There’s really not much else of interest in this area, so if the Crimson Kingdom is up to something then it’s likely they’re up to it here.”
Tarka worried at a tear in her sleeve, frowning. “The thing that baffles me is what they’d want here. I don’t think the Crimson Kingdom would just waste their time trying to make the halflings in this area hate the elves.”
“That’s what we’ll have to find out. I had a plan while you guys were still out in the woods. When I respawned I had my armor and weapon but the rest of my stuff was gone. Guess Padwin took it. Either way, I don’t have any money, and unless you guys have some cash, we won’t be able to afford to stay here after tonight,” Krug said.
“So I thought,” Krug continued, “if we don’t have money, we’ll have to earn it. Downstairs, I heard about merchants throughout the city are hiring guards to protect them from the city’s soldiers. We can hire ourselves out, and if we’re lucky, instigate a fight, capture a soldier, and see if we can get him to talk about what’s going on.”
“That sounds like a good plan,” Cleave said.
Using some of her parchment, Tarka created ads. She then posted them on bulletin boards around the city, and tipped a town crier her last few copper pieces to hand out the rest.
She came back and was hanging out with the rest of the party when there was a knock on the door.
A short and stout halfling wearing a bright yellow waistcoat and breeches answered the door. He said his name was Ferramin. He owned a jewelry store in one of the poorer areas of town and the city guard was giving him more trouble than usual. His last guards had quit and he wanted to find replacements.
Ferramin offered enough money for one night of guard duty to pay for three days at the inn, and the party immediately accepted. They tried to ask him questions about the city but he curtly waved them off. He told them where the store was and that they’d started tomorrow.
The merchant left as quickly as he came in. The party was put off by his demeanor, but were happy to have a job and a way to start their investigation.
NINETEEN
Clint reluctantly went home after he logged off the game. He was hesitant to leave gaming and his memories of his childhood behind and go back into the real world. Spending the weekend at Mary’s apartment reignited a glow in him that he thought had long since been extinguished by the adult world.
He forgot what it felt like to be a kid. It was a nice feeling and one that was too fleeting. His dreams that night were filled with visions of his summers in high school. Endless gaming, laughing at memes and stupid online videos, and eating large amounts of junk food that would just give him indigestion now.
The following morning found him at his work desk frantically moving windows around on his holoscreen. The day had been hell, but he was expecting that. He received several calls for menial problems and had been working on three different reports he wasn’t even close to being done with.
He’d gotten an email from the CFO, who was also on vacation, asking where they were and the executive had sent him a very angry email when Clint said he would get it to him as soon as he could.
The calls from his coworkers were becoming more and more terse as the day went on. Part of it had to do with the fact that it was taking him longer than usual to get to their problems, but he had an idea that his thinning patience could take part of the blame.
There were many thoughts spiralling around in his mind, not just about work, but Unexplored as well. He tried to figure out what Padwin wanted in Clearwater, or at least why he was there. Then there was the whole thing about getting excited over the idea of Tarka or him doing it with someone else while the other watched.
He did a little research on the last topic, but with the game and work he really didn’t have any time for it.
There was a call on his work phone.
Wonderful, just what he needed, someone else to gripe at him while he was making no headway with his reports.
Clint placed a headset on and a stack of papers slid across his desk as he pressed a button on the phone embedded phone.
“Hello,” Clint tried to sound as chipper as possible.
“Hey Clint, it’s Bonnie,” the voice on the other end said.
Clint smiled. It was the fellow cat video enthusiast he started eating lunch with after the big battle with the Crimson Kingdom in the forest a few weeks ago. He
pressed down his frustrations. This was one person he didn’t want to upset.
“Hey Bonnie, what’s up?”
“I just sent over this spreadsheet and I don’t know what I did, but its telling me my buyers cleared a zillion dollars last quarter and I don’t think that’s possible.”
Clint found the spreadsheet in his email and examined it. He found the problem right away.
“Looks like you just just misplaced some decimals in a few cells. I’ll get it for you.”
Clint fixed the problem and sent it back to her.
“Wow, Clint you are the man. It all makes sense now. Looks like Madeline’s is set to take a larger market share in the southeast again. We’re making money hand over fist.”
“Madeline’s is making money?” A little sarcasm creeped into Clint’s voice.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. All these cutbacks after we’ve seen increased profits quarter after quarter can be a real demotivator.”
Clint stiffened. “Careful, we don’t want to upset the big guys upstairs.”
Bonnie laughed. “They’re on vacation. We could talk dirty and no one would say anything, heck some of the people here would probably want in on it.”
Clint thought about himself and Bonnie engaging in scandalous conversation. She was a pretty woman in her early forties with red hair with an occasional flare for the wild. He saw himself kissing her while Mary watched, then her kissing Mary while he watched, then all three of them…
No! Begone perverted thoughts. This was the workplace. If anything he was thinking ever got out he’d be canned for sure. Though the way things were going, that thought wasn’t too terrible.
“Clint, you okay? Did I scare you?” Bonnie said.
Clint shook himself. “No, I - I’m sorry. I just have a lot on my mind. There’s all this work and stress and at home stuff it’s bogging me down.”
“Oh, thank goodness. I thought I warped another young mind with my humor. What’s wrong?”
Clint chuckled. “I’m already warped.”
Bonnie laughed. As he listened to her mirth, he watched all of the help requests floating around his desk and the unfinished reports on his holoscreen. Then there would be the accounting work he’d need to do at the end of the day. It was so much. A month ago, his cavalier attitude and putting his all into his work would get everything done. But now, with everything piling up the way it was, it wasn’t enough.
It was just like that battle with the Crimson Kingdom in the Wilderwood. The odds were stacked against him. Except this was the real world, and he was all alone facing a monumental challenge he couldn’t solve by himself.
“Clint?” Bonnie said.
He remembered the battle. If it weren’t for the Fey Wilder, the dryads, Bitterroot, and his friends, they would have all been hosed. His allies helped him win the day. Too bad it wasn’t like that in the real world.
“Clint?”
Or maybe it was. Maybe he could find help. He could always reach out. Most of his coworkers didn’t have technical skills, but maybe there was something they could do to help. Yeah, that’s what he’d have to do. If he didn’t, he’d drown in a sea of logistics and menial corporate paperwork. But how could he do it? He wasn’t terribly social by nature.
“Clint!”
Clint was shocked from his reverie. “Bonnie.”
“Welcome back to earth Clint. Things really must be going crazy over there.”
“I probably just need to swallow a couple of Super Energy.”
“Or you could start drinking coffee. Keeps me going. Anyway, thanks for the help. Try not to work too hard.”
He had an idea. He wasn’t terribly social or used to asking for help, but maybe he could start now.
“Hey Bonnie,” Clint said.
“Yes?”
“I’m really sorry to ask this but, I know you’re not big into logistics and all that fun noise but uh, I think I-”
“Need help?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“Well I’m not terribly big on numbers, but maybe if I asked around.”
Three more help request popped up over his desk and Clint groaned.
“All these help requests. Most of them are the same freaking thing. If we had some kind of doc out there to show us how to fix this stuff, most of us could do it ourselves,” Clint said, more to himself. When he realized he said that aloud he gasped.
“That is a good idea,” Bonnie said. “You know, if there was a document I could just look at when I’m having a spreadsheet problem, I could take care of it without having to bother you.”
“No, wait, I didn’t mean that how it came out. I like helping people with their problems, I really do it’s -”
“It’s just a major hassle. Trust me, I know. It’s a hassle for me to break away from my work because of a simple error and have to bug you to fix it. This is something we’ve needed forever.”
“Thing is we need to find someone to make it. I could do it but, the time issue.”
“I know a guy in my department, he’s a writer, his name is Cooper. He says he is anyway, I haven’t seen his work, but he edits my memos and he’s pretty good. Maybe he can help.”
“That could work. I could show him what I do and he could make some notes.”
“I know you’re busy, but if you have some time maybe I can send him now. He’s not too busy and I’m sure he’d love to do that more than asking store managers if they’re following safety compliances.”
“Sure, sounds great, thanks.”
“No problem. Try not to get lost in all that work. Take care.”
Thirty minutes later a young man with wild brown hair and glasses met with Clint. He was eager to get started and after an hour, he’d taken a large number of notes. They had a pleasant conversation during the process and he found out the young man played Unexplored as well, though he wouldn’t tell Clint his character’s name.
The young man left Clint in much higher spirits. He stayed at work until seven and still wasn’t done with his work. He was still wrapping his head around the accounting, the reports were still not completed and he left eighty help requests untouched.
There was a mountain of work left to do and he knew he would catch flack for leaving it until tomorrow, but maybe with a little help, he could tackle it all.
TWENTY
Cleave logged on to find Tarka and Krug waiting in their room at the inn. The party gathered their gear and followed Ferramin’s directions to a shop simply called “Ferramin’s Jewelry.” Many of the buildings surrounding this one were closed and boarded up.
Inside were many glass displays sitting on tables with several pieces of pieces of jewelry arranged to attract the buyer’s eye. The merchant’s wares were as finely crafted as the elven jewelry they received from Larukel.
The proprietor greeted them and told them to keep an eye on the front of the store and to deter any guards from forcibly taking his wares.
Ferramin was curt but he did chat with them for a few minutes. The jewelry in the cases were elven, purchased from the Lren and other elven tribes located farther away. Cleave asked what the proprietor thought of the Lren elves.
“Don’t much like them, nobody in the town does.”
“Why not?” Krug said.
“A number of reasons, but the biggest is that they’re stealing business from the locals. Lot of elves sell their inferior wares dirt cheap to the merchants in town. It’s a lot less expensive to buy the elven stuff, and it was putting the city’s craftspeople out of business.”
“Is that why it’s illegal to sell elven goods?” Tarka said.
“It’s not illegal to sell all elven goods, but it should be. Those rat bastards are, or at least were, destroying our economy. Our mayor is putting an end to that by passing laws against selling elven wares and shutting down shops that still do.”
“I noticed the shops near the center of town are still functioning,” Cleave said.
“That’s because they have
the sense to sell local goods.”
“Sounds like they had the money to comply to the new laws while the shops out in these areas didn’t,” Krug said.
“All of the shops had the money to comply, they just didn’t want to do it because their profit margins were higher with elven wares. Well, they got their dues. They’ve been shut down and the law abiding shop owners have been allowed to remain open.”
“I notice you’re selling elven jewelry, is it not illegal?” Cleave said.
“It is, but I received special permission from the mayor to do so. Tomorrow, I’m going to get a large amount of local, higher quality jewelry from the local jewelry maker to replace the crap you see before you. Sadly, that still doesn’t keep the local guard away. That’s why I hired you. I don’t want any of these jewels taken before the new stuff gets here.”
“Is it just the elven items the mayor has a problem with? Does he have a problem with the elves?”
“I don’t think he hates elves personally, just the effect their wares have on our economy. There is some anti-elf sentiment, but that is just local craftspeople worried about their businesses.”
Cleave wanted to ask more questions but Ferramin quieted him and beckoned the party to look after the shop.
Throughout the party’s shift, Ferramin was very nervous and twitched any time he interacted with a customer. Cleave offered to walk around the shop to keep an eye out for suspicious people, but the merchant insisted all three party members stay in the lobby.
The eyes of all three party members scanned the shop, and all of them noticed the back door. It was slightly ajar. Ferramin nervously looked at it occasionally. The merchant’s small hands would disappear behind the counter and stroke across something.
Cleave’s nerves were on high alert. Sweat formed on his brow as his eyes shifted from the front door to the back. Krug and Tarka picked up on his gaze and they all interchangeably kept their eyes on both the back door and the merchant.
As the hours passed. Fewer customers came in to look at the merchandise. The merchant grew increasingly fidgety with them and his voice cracked when he spoke. Cleave wasn’t surprised to find that he was the only one feeling nervous. Every little movement made the kobold and half giant flinch. The party did their best to look calm, but their nerves would occasionally flare up at the slightest noise or shuffle.
Crisis at Clearwater - A LitRPG Virtual Fantasy Adventure (Book 2 Unexplored Cycle) Page 10
