*Knock-knock*

“Milord, lunch service is open,” Gendun called out from behind the door.

And right on the dot, I heard a bell tolling twelve times.  I shook my head.  I had lost track of time planning out my next moves.  I amended my mental to-do list.  The FIRST thing I needed to buy was a pocket watch.  I certainly didn’t want to be at the mercy of the bell tolls to tell time.  I may be stuck inside a medieval game, but I sure as heck won’t adopt a medieval mindset of using the bell toll to account for the passage of time by the hour.

I looked at the storage chest placed in between the wall and the left side of the bed.  There was a key left in the lock.  I opened the chest and saw a simple box with no compartments.  I briefly considered putting some of my precious platinum coins inside the chest but ultimately, I decided not to take the risk.  Kalistra’s warning against my naivety rang in my mind.  How could I be certain that the staffers didn’t carry spare keys to open these storage chests?  All it took was one dishonest tavern worker, or a thief proficient in picking locks for that matter, to lose my fortune.  No, it was far safer to leave the coins on my person.  That being said, I needed to check and see if this gaming world offered any banking services.  I added looking for a bank to my ever growing mental to-do list.

The more immediate problem, though, was where could I put these coins on my person?  I wasn’t going to leave them in my tights, as the presence of the coins would be obvious whenever they are pressed against my legs.  My tunic, unfortunately, didn’t have any zipper pockets either.  So the only possibility left was my black boots.  I sat down on my bed and took off my left boot.  I examined the bottom of the footwear to ensure that there were no holes in it.  Then I placed half of my platinum coins in the boot and then put my foot in too.  The coins pressed against the bottom of my left foot and I felt some discomfort.  I just had to suck it up and learn to walk slowly.  With my precious platinum coins safe inside my boot, I decided to head down to the common room to grab lunch.

After locking the door to my room, I turned around and saw another guest opening the door directly across from my room.  It was a man of slender build with a dark olive hood covering his face.   My wave in greeting at my neighbor was ignored as the man slammed his door shut.

As I walked down the staircase, I pondered why the man was so rude.  I almost stumbled on the stairs when the idea hit me.  That person was probably an elf and the reason for his rudeness became obvious.  In the game of Merlin, the elves had an uneasy truce with the humans on the continent of Britannia; the elves lived in the forests beyond the western border of Merlin.  Elven traders often visited the border towns, like Tregome, to sell fur, leather, and herbs in order to buy iron goods from the smithies as well as precious stones and metals from other merchants.

Making a mental note to avoid antagonizing the unfriendly elf, I quickly walked down the stairs.  As I reached toward the end of the steps, I heard loud and boisterous conversations.  I looked up and saw that the place was packed with patrons.  I took a look around the common room and managed to find one seat available on a bench near the bar.  I quickly walked through the crowd and claimed the open seat.

When I sat down, however, the people at the table immediately stopped their private conversations and stared at me.  Some patrons offered friendly looks while others offered less friendly ones.  A dirty looking ruffian, whose name on the caption read, “Ebenthal,” spoke up.  He sat to my immediate left.  “This seat is taken, friend,” he said in an icy tone of voice.

“My apologies, sir,” I replied and quickly got back up.  I had no interest in fighting over a lousy seat.  Also, my writer's intuition told me that Ebenthal was an unsavory character whom I should avoid.

“Knock it off!” another voice said.  It belonged to a pretty female human with fiery red hair sitting across the table from my seat.  Her caption read, “Name: Rijana, Level: ?, Disposition: Friendly.”  The lady, who was dressed in a dark gray robe, offered me a bright, dazzling smile and said, “The seat is open, milord.  Please set down.”  She appeared to be a spellcaster.

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Ebenthal, whose disposition I didn’t even need to read the caption to know, scowled and turned away from me as I sat back down.

“Are you new in town?” another female said.  The voice came from an elven maiden with smooth, rich golden skin, curly blonde hair, and sky blue eyes sitting next to Rijana.  The elf wore light elven chain mail armor.  The floating caption read, “Name: Bjoukia, Level: ?, Disposition: Curious.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied while trying hard to avoid staring at her luscious lips.

Bjoukia giggled.  “You made it sound like I’m older than you,” she teased.

“Considering that you’re an elf and he’s a human, you probably are,” said an elven male sitting to my right.  The elf had similar skin, hair, and eye color; his caption read, “Name: Bjoukin, Level: ?, Disposition: Friendly.”  He was dressed in similar armor as well.  

“Are you twins?” I asked.  Both elves were probably fighters.

Bjoukin pointed his left forefinger at me.  “Very perceptive,” he said with a grin.  “I like you already.”

“It was a lucky guess,” I replied modestly.  Actually, their names were so similar that it was kind of obvious even to a blind man.  From the way they spoke and the accent they used, one could reasonably infer that the duo came from the same town.  Also, their easy banter inferred some familiarity.  When the closeness of the names and similarities of their faces are factored in, it wasn’t a great leap for me to assume that the two were twins.

“May I take your order?” Amelica interrupted.  She had a concerned look on her face for some reason.

“I’ll have whatever you recommend,” I offered a warm smile with my reply.  I wondered what was wrong with Amelica.

“Sir, before I accept your order I need you to settle your tab,” the waitress stared directly into my eyes as she replied.  She motioned with her hand for me to follow her.

When I belatedly rose off the bench, she grabbed my left wrist without warning and pulled me into the kitchen.

Amelica stood between me and the exit, trapping me inside the kitchen.  She wore a stern expression on her face.  “Sir, the man you’re sitting with is rumored to be a bandit looking for an easy mark.  Once he confirms that you’re traveling alone, he will try to take you to a secluded area and rob you,” my angel warned.  Then her face softened a notch.  “Please go back to your room.  Someone will bring you lunch.”

Her eyes pleaded for me to obey her instructions, despite the fact that she was way out of line in telling a nobleman what to do.  Furthermore, she lied about my non-existing tab in front of my new acquaintances and humiliated me publicly.  This was not a trivial matter because people did go to debtors' prison for failure to pay back debt.  By implying that I owed money to The Noble Lady, Amelica had made an implicit threat to have me arrested for owing a debt.  If I called on The Watch to arrest her for this false accusation, then even Vern would be powerless to stop the arrest.

“Thank you,” I replied calmly.  I was deeply touched that Amelica was looking out for me despite the personal risk to her if I had taken her advice the wrong way.  The truth of the matter was that very few people would put themselves in harm's way in order to protect a stranger, especially one that they just met.  Of course, if Amelica had somehow fallen in love with me then that would explain her risky behavior.  I guess we'll find out how she really feels about me when she visits my room tonight.  Expressly showing that I was following her advice, I passed by the bar and headed up the stairs.

Ebenthal quickly got up from his seat and tried to follow me.

However, Vern had followed me from the kitchen.  He stood at the bottom of the stairs and blocked Ebenthal from going after me.  “You do not have a room upstairs,” the innkeeper growled.

“I just need to ask my friend something,” the would-be bandit tried to argue.

“Should I fetch The Watch to escort you out?” Vern growled.

The ruffian smoothed his anger out of his face.  “No, I’ll catch up with my friend later,” he smirked and returned to his table.