Page 8 of The Glass Unicorn: Part 1
The clock showed that it was seven. I estimated the time for us to bathe.
“We’ll bathe, then eat.”
“Forty for the rooms, fifty for the food and baths,” he said, holding out his hand.
I fumbled in my pocket where I’d stashed a couple of the silver coins, and brought out one, slapping it in his hands. He gave me back ten copper and then motioned to one of the serving girls. Carrying the keys, she led us up to the rooms. As we climbed the stairs to the second floor, we said nothing. We all knew the dangers of talking in front of strangers, at least in the MMO version. We waited till she left, then gathered in one room.
“All right, they’re bringing up water for the first two baths. Brynn and I’ll bathe in one room, the three of you can bathe inhere. We’ll bathe in shifts—don’t dally, or we’ll miss dinner.” We settled down to wait for the hot water.
It took two hours, but by nine o’clock, we were all clean, and the serving girls had done their best to clean our clothes and armor for us. Feeling better from the hot water and soap, we headed down to the dining hall, grateful for the heaping plates of food that the servers placed in front of us. None of us had much to say. It had been one long, strange, day, and I thought about whether I wanted to go through the rest of the adventure.
Yes, the killing bothered me. Yes, it was going to be harder than I ever thought possible. But this was the adventure of a lifetime. And I knew that if I left early, I’d never take another chance on coming back.
“You can do it,” I muttered to myself. “You wanted this. It was your idea. Stick it out, and you might have fun.”
With that self-encouragement, I shifted my focus back to the group. Everybody was laughing, talking about the Trogger and the ogres, and what might lie in front of us. I forced myself to join in. With a little luck, we’d adjust and the rest of our little adventure would go just as we planned it.
CHAPTER 5: ONWARD TO ADVENTURE!
“Apples—can we get more apples?”Brynn asked.
“And cheese!” Thornhold added. “Bread, as well.”
It was morning, and we had eaten breakfast at the inn, and now, we were standing in the Market Square, stocking up for our venture into the forest. Everybody wanted something different, so I finally put my foot down.
“I amnotyour personal shopper. I was happy to pay for the room, and everybody has their own money. Buy what you want, but remember, we might not come across any treasure troves on the way. With luck, we will, but the spare coins we got off the Trogger and the ogres might just be all the supplemental coinage we end up with. So think before you shop,” I added. “And stick close. We really don’t want to get split up around here.” I glanced around.
The market was bustling with housewives bargaining prices for food, vendors hawking their wares, children looking to steal an apple or a cookie. A few shops—more permanent than the vendor stalls—offered more permanent goods than food and cloth. Weapons makers, armorers, farriers, carpenters, and more, all lined the side of the market square.
The stench was overpowering—a combination of cooked meats, smoke, perfumes, B.O., burned vegetables and underlying everything, the ever present smell of raw sewage.
“I don’t care what anybody says,” I said. “Things were definitely not better in the olden days. Even the 70s, 80s, and 90s were problematic. Give me modern technology any day—at least on a day-to-day basis.” I caught sight of a weapons shop. “I want a better dagger. Anybody want to go with me?”
The fact that we got to keep our armor and weapons when our time in the game was over made it even more appealing to find some gorgeous blade to have as a souvenir.
Warning the others not to go far, although we could communicate with each other through our watches if we wanted to pay extra—and by extra, I meant twenty-five dollars per single text—Thornhold and I headed into the shop.
Behind the counter was a gorgeous Amazon of a woman. I’d thought Brynn was statuesque, but this chick made her look like a peasant.
She eyed us up and down. She was an Abarria Game-Guides employee. If we hurt her or tried to steal from her, it was automatically off to jail.Do not pass go, do not collect loot.
“Merry meet, and prithee, how might I give thee aid?” The words flowed off her tongue, but sounded so stilted that I snorted.
“You can speak normally to us,” I said. I knew the in-game employees were trained to speak like gamers thought they should, whether historically accurate or not. A lot of people felt it gave an authentic feel to the game, but there really wasn’t much historical accuracy to most RPGs.
She let out a sigh. “Thanks. I get so tired of remembering the script.” Then, as if she was afraid she might be overheard—and she very well might be—she blushed and added, “What can I do for you?”
“What have you got in blades for…well…a gold piece?” I was willing to spend my money on something I could take home. Food…well…we had enough with us if we rationed it out, and I was willing to eat stale bread and warm cheese for a couple of weeks.
“I can give you this silver hilted one—it doesn’t have a magical attack, but it will glow blue around undead. And silver does extra damage to undead. It’s probably not much better than the one you’ve got on that belt, but it’s shiny,” she said with a laugh, bringing out the blade.
It was, indeed, shiny, and had just the perfect fantasy look that I wanted.
“I’ll take it. I doubt we’ll be leveling up much in the time we’re going to be here, so I might as well get something pretty.” I paid her and fastened the sheath to the other side of my belt. I would use the one that Game-Guides gave me, and save my fancy one for showing off at home.
Thornhold snorted. “How about a sharpening stone?”
“Three silver,” she said.
