Chapter 10

Leon decided to rest before going downstairs to have a meal. The bleeding had taken more out of him than he’d thought, and it felt nice to replenish some of his energy. He slept for an hour, then ventured downstairs, where the dining hall brimmed with life. Most of the people looked like townsfolk, but he had to get used to the fact that players could look exactly like NPCs, no matter the NPC’s status.

Before he entered to search for a table, he looked for Hert’s quest on the board. It wasn’t there. Leon frowned. Maybe he had changed his mind, but somehow, that felt unlikely. Maybe Leon would go there tomorrow to speak with him, because even though he wanted his backpack, he didn’t want to go into the tree cave alone, especially with only a wooden sword that he barely got the hang of to protect him from whatever evils lurked there.

He zigzagged to the only vacant table and sat down. It stood in a corner and was somewhat secluded from the rest. Still, Margaret saw him and held up an index finger. A minute later, she danced around the tables and patrons with remarkable grace and set down a plate with rice and stew in front of him.

“Busy night,” Leon said, picking up a fork. Then he laid it down. “Do you open the payment window, or how does it work?”

She waved his words away. “That girl you sent me, Ava—” She smiled. “She’s a blessing on a night like this. Food’s on me.”

Leon opened his mouth to protest, but stopped. His purse wasn’t exactly full, and each avoided expense was a good thing. “Thanks.”

She waved it off again. “And don’t you worry, boy. We’ve come to an arrangement to suit us both. Now I have to run. Enjoy your meal!”

A second, and she was halfway through the room. Leon looked after her bigger but somehow agile figure. An arrangement? He supposed he should be happy for Ava, and he was, but he hoped that wouldn’t put pins in the wheels for what he’d thought up.

A thought struck him. Was Margaret also a player? It wasn’t unlikely. She was so… human. And with so many players staying at the lower levels, whether they cleared the first floor of the tower or not, who could say whether most of the population in this part of Pura were players? Was the first floor really so difficult that a majority just threw away their chance to live and see their families again?

Leon picked his way through the meal and scanned the room to see if he could separate the players from the NPCs. There were eight groups of people, all chatting away about things he couldn’t make out because of the combined noise. He couldn’t find anything. Whether all of them were players or none of them were, there was no way of telling. So how could he find a group to fight with, even if it was only for the first floor? The quest board sprang into his mind. But there was no way a player worth their salt would go into the tower with a person who only wielded a wooden weapon. Backpack first, then a party.

Leon sat and regarded the other people in the room for the rest of the evening, hoping to snap up some conversation he was interested in. Sadly, all of those he could discern were just friendly talks about their shops, customers, or the occasional bet on if a guy could get a girl to go out with him or empty their tankard within a certain time. He hadn’t expected much more than that. Players who wanted to scale the tower would most likely be in the area that required a higher level. But one could get lucky, sometimes.

It took until well past midnight for the inn to go back to normal business. Had Leon known, maybe he would have just slept it off, but all he needed after his meal was three or four hours to get fully restored fatigue and the ‘Well Rested’ bonus, then he’d wake up, anyway.

Ava came out from the kitchen and plopped down on the chair opposite him. She drew a few glances with her unruly hair and jute clothes, but her face was lit with happiness. She stretched her hands over the table.

“Thank you so much!”

Leon blinked. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoy it.”

“Well, washing dishes is washing dishes, but because of you, I can sleep in a bed tonight!” She bit her lip and drummed her fingers on the table.

What a change in her. “I’m very happy for you. So what’s the arrangement, then?”

“Oooh.” She pouted her lips. “I thought you were going to ask me something. I’ve been waiting all evening to find out what.” When Leon waved her on, she continued, “Instead of 5 coins, I’m getting a place to sleep each night.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Leon’s eyes widened. “That’s great! But what will you do about food?” Never mind clothes or anything else.

“Haven’t figured that one out yet. But in the Slums, one can go without food for a week or so without problems, so I think I’ll manage somehow. Besides, Margaret said she’ll give me leftovers if there are any. That’s already much better than what I had. And it’s all because of you!” She grabbed his hands and shook them. “Will you tell me now?”

Leon nodded. He just wondered how willing she’d be. “My proposition was that I want you to help me level up by buffing me.”

Ava’s smile faltered, and she sank back, looking at her knee. “I’m sorry. Right now, I only know the weakest healing spell, and you saw what happened with that.”

Half the strength of a health potion and leaving her exhausted. It would be hard to forget. “That’s fine. I kind of understood it would be that way. I still want you to come with me, for that single heal. In return, I’d like to give you a third of the coins from the monsters I slay.” He looked at Ava, who paled. Leon continued, ”I’m sorry, is it too little? I don’t have a lot to offer right now, but—”

“It’s too generous,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

Leon shook his head. “If it means I can stay out there longer, or if it means I survive, I’d pay what I could.”

She still shook her head. “I can’t take your money.”

“Then what about items?” Leon spread his arms. “At the end of the day, you get to pick what you want. Or is there something else you’d like?”

Ava considered, then she nodded. “Fine. One item if I heal you that day.”

“Well, let’s do one item per day, then. Heal or not.” Perhaps he should have let it be what she said, but if he was right about her, it would be best this way. Besides, she seemed like a nice person. It was a gamble, but not a great one. “I mean, you’re going to come with me, aren’t you? Better get something for your time.”

She started shaking her head, but Leon stopped it with his hands, forcing her to look at him.

“That’s my final offer.”

She swallowed. “Okay.”

“Meet me outside the inn at eight tomorrow. You think you’ll be ready by then?”

Her red face nodded once, then she disappeared into the kitchen, a smile spreading across her face.

******

At eight sharp, Leon found her leaning against the inn, so far to the building that it looked like she wanted to be its wallpaper.

Leon greeted her, and she became a person again.

“Before we go, I just want to check something,” Leon said and strode over to Hert’s Smithery. He’d just checked the board, but nothing had been posted. He knocked on the door. “Hert?”

Footsteps thudded on the floor inside. Then the door creaked open. Hert wiped his hands on the apron. “Leon, right?”

“Are you going today? I didn’t see a quest.”

He scratched his bald head. “Well, that’s because I didn’t put one up.”

“You don’t intend to go back?”

“Well, I am. But not as a smith. As a tank. But I think it would be foolish of us to try it alone, and if we do, you probably need to be a higher level.”

Leon pointed behind him. “I don’t think it’s a good idea if she comes with us into the actual cave, but she can heal once a day. Emergency aid.”

“A Scab?” Hert scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. She’s a player.”

Hert furrowed his brow. “What class?”

“Cleric.” Leon leaned on his sword.

“Figures,” Hert muttered. “But I guess it will do, as long as she doesn’t get in the way.” He sighed. “Let me get dressed. Did you get yourself a torch?”

Leon shook his head. “No holding item. All I can take with me is what I have in my hands. I hoped the one you brought would be enough.”

Hert nodded, and as the door closed, he whispered to himself, “What a ragtag group.”

Leon turned to Ava, who looked on with undisguised puzzlement. “We’re going to the blacksmith?”

“Nope, he’s also a player. Yesterday, he put up a quest, and on that quest, I lost my backpack. Now, we’re going back there.”

Ava shook her head. “I knew it. It was all too good to be true. You seemed so nice.” She looked at him with hurt in her eyes. “You’re going somewhere dangerous, aren’t you? And I’m going to be the bait.”

“Not at all,” Leon hurried. “No, if possible, I’d like you to stay outside the cave and be ready to heal if one of us comes out injured.”

Ava swallowed and weighed on her feet as if considering running away. “A cave? You think it will be safe outside?”

Leon nodded. “I do. There’s a pretty ominous feeling around it, but other animals and monsters seem to stay away. It should be safe enough.”

Ava clawed into her hair, staring at the ground. She mumbled something to herself. Then she looked up. “Okay. I’ll trust you.”

“Great!”

“No,” she said. “I’ll trust you with my life. If I get attacked, I’ll probably die. I can’t defend myself.”

“It’s okay if you don’t want to come with us. I mean it. Then we’ll just meet up tomorrow to do some ordinary hunting.”

Ava bit her lip. “Do I get to pick something from what you loot if I come today?”

“That was the deal. Except for my backpack, of course.”

She nodded. “I’ll go.”

The door to the blacksmith opened and closed. Leon turned around. Whatever a tank was meant to be, he hadn’t pictured this. He’d expected full armor, but what Hert wore was a too-small beige woolen tunic with an 8x8 inch square metal plate sewn into the front and back of the fabric. The pants were blue and had two metal squares over the knees, and on his feet were the same type of boots that Leon wore. The beige satchel hung over his shoulder, and in his hands was a shield and the hammer from yesterday.

“Ready to go?” Hert asked when he’d locked the door.

“Uh, sure,” Leon said.

Hert gestured over his body with the hammer when he saw Leon’s face. “Well, it’s the starter items for a tank. We’re low level, and it shows.”

Well, at least the hammer wasn’t made of wood, but some kind of stone. Leon smiled. “Then, let’s go.”

They wandered through the streets and caught more than a few glances. The term ’ragtag’ seemed to fit them well. A smith whose muscles had outgrown the tank outfit, a skeletal Cleric dressed in rags and biting her fingernails, and Leon, walking in between them with a straight back, holding his trusty wooden sword by his side, as if ready to fight. Don Quixote, he thought.