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Fantasy Unlimited (Dropped)
Chapter 8: Midnight Stroll

Chapter 8: Midnight Stroll

A/N: So I got quite a bit of comments and some of you guys have pointed out some plot holes you found (if they were or not). Many of you have valid points that I completely forgot to talk about. Unfortunately, I will not fixing anything nor editing the story because it would take too much time and not worth it for an on-a-whim story. But I am very glad to know all of these and hope to apply it to my future writing, one where I actually plan out what I am doing. Anways, thanks for all of the comments and happy reading! 

It was mid-morning when they got back to the house. He put the rest of the meat in a magic box that kept the food frozen and hung the pelt outside to dry. For some reason, he knew that nothing would come to steal it. Then again, he wondered why no one ever walked by his house.

Cyrus put on his light armor and sword. Surprisingly, Aradhel wanted to carry his sword and dragged it all the way back to the house. Her arms, not used to the weight, shook from the exertion, but she seemed to have a proud look on her sweaty face. He went downstairs with some plants he found on the way back. As he made some extra potions, Aradhel watched.

“Tell me what kind of symptoms you have from your illness.” Cyrus was curious if he could figure out what possible disease she had and if his potion had cured it.

“Um, usually I cough a lot and it doesn’t stop when it happens. Recently, I started coughing up blood as well.” She seemed more open towards him after settling down and having that talk.

“You most likely have a disease called Tuberculosis. I originally gave you one of my higher-end potions when I first brought you back here. I think it cured you of any physical ailments you may have had.” Cyrus nonchalantly continued to work while Aradhel just stared at him.

“I… um… Thank you. Again.” She couldn’t even believe that her something that has caused her endless amounts of pain could vanish so quickly. Cyrus only shrugged at the response.

“Is that a high quality blue potion? How could you make such a thing?”

“These are high quality?” Cyrus had a confused face. In the game, this would have been an average item that could be bought at a relatively low price.

“Depending on who you sell it to, those should go for about ten silver for a small potion!” Aradhel couldn’t understand how he could make such potions and not know of their apparent worth. Cyrus never replied, but he figured that potions were in high demand during these dangerous times. Cyrus didn’t plan on telling her that he had used a blood red potion on her.

After Cyrus divided the blue potions into small flasks, he had Aradhel place them into the multiple pockets lining the inside of the cloak. He walked out with Aradhel in tow. He set out for a fast pace, knowing the general direction from when he had played the game. Cyrus kept his pace at a moderate speed, so that Aradhel would not get left behind but enough to keep her walking at her max pace. The walk was mostly silent for the next few hours, except to tell Aradhel there would be a break, for which she was grateful. Cyrus never really cared for a conversation if he didn’t have to and Aradhel was too shy to speak up, as well as still having some apprehensions. The walk was entirely uneventful as well, with nothing disturbing the pair.

Finished with their last break Cyrus and Aradhel began walking along an old game trail. This time, there was no silence. Cyrus wanted to know about Lindor the Elven capital, and the king who was also different from the game. “So tell me about Lindor and the King.”

Aradhel perked up at a chance to speak, “Lindor is located in the center of the Elven Forest. There are about a hundred thousand elves living in the capital and more in the surrounding cities. Although our population is smaller compared to other nations, we are a thriving kingdom. Although Elron is the king, there is a small council as well, full of elders from throughout the kingdom.” Ardhel paused thinking of what to say about her adoptive father. “King Elron is a powerful mage who overtook the throne, as a general, when the previous king was killed during an invasion by the dwarves a couple hundred years ago. I don’t know exactly how old he is, but his magic seems to be declining recently. He also despises anyone who is not elvish, especially humans and dwarves. My brother wanting to study in a human kingdom brought him a lot of grief. However, to those he cares about, he is a kind man. But to those he dislikes, he is a man of hatred.”

Cyrus figured that she had felt much of the latter from the king. “I hope I never meet him.”

“Why?”

“Because I would like to kill the man.” He didn't tell her that the king reminded him of his father.

Before Aradhel could respond, the forest thinned out and a decent-sized town came into view. Although there were a few guards that appeared to patrol the outer portion of the town, there was no wall or any type of surrounding defense. He figured the patrol was more of an early warning system for the rest of the soldiers inside the town as well as to deter any rogue bandits.

They found a path that led to the town. “Here’s the plan. And unfortunately, you can’t argue with it. I’m only telling you because it’ll be simpler if you understood my intentions when we arrive. We are going to sell a couple potions and see what we can get from that. If we can’t get enough stuff, I’ll have to get it through unconventional methods.” Cyrus continued to walk in a relaxed manner as they approached the town. Aradhel had not said anything, but he assumed she was listening. He would do what he had to do, regardless of if she followed. To be truthful, he kind of hoped it would resort to that. He wanted to test himself with different types of fighters.

“Stop!” A thick-built guard from one of the patrols came up to us. “State your intention.”

“Hello, my sister and I are just travelling and we needed a place to stay. It gets pretty dangerous out there at night, you know with the bandits and all.” Cyrus flashed a friendly smile while putting up both hands in the air to show his lack of resistance.

“That’s fine. Why doesn’t she have any shoes on?” The guard eyed Aradhel’s dirty feet.

“Oh that’s actually a funny story. You see, we were walking through the forest, you know, trying to get here through a short cut. But then all of a sudden, a dire wolf started chasing us. So we had to climb a tree and wait it out. We used my sister’s shoes to try and lure the thing away. Thank the gods, it worked.” Cyrus quietly laughed, shaking his head.

“A dire wolf? Damn, those things are bad news. Not many can say they escaped! Well, welcome to Larel.” The guard chuckled, completely buying into the story.

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“Thank you, so nice to see people again.” Aradhel had kept silent the entire time without looking up. Cyrus, assuming the town followed the same map-out of the game, Larel had some cheap beginner’s clothes stores as well as a beginner level alchemist’s shop.

“Aradhel, what is the currency?”

“It’s 100 copper coins for 1 silver coin, and 100 silver coins for 1 gold coin. Every country should be using the same currency so that trade would be easier.” She looked up at him a little confused why someone would ask such a simple question. Cyrus just ignored the look, but scowled at the fact that his inventory held thousands upon thousands of gold coins.

They walked through wide streets and many of the people they passed stared at them. They all wore simple clothing that showed the complete lack of wealth in the town. Although, not exactly as the game had mapped it out, the alchemist’s shop was found in the same general area, with a sign of a bubbling flask hanging from the awning. The two walked inside, finally escaping the obvious looks from the town’s people. Inside were shelves lined with alchemy equipment and a few various types of plants. Behind the counter was an old man, with a scraggly white beard and a bald head with a few grey strands sticking out.

“Oh, a pleasure to meet an elf. It’s been quite a while. How may I be of assistance?”

“Yes, I would like to sell some potions. Here.” Cyrus put a hand out to Aradhel who handed him a small flask.

“Is that what I think it is? Where did you get such a high quality potion?” The old man reach out to grab the blue potion but Cyrus moved it away from reach while putting his other hand on the mans forehead. The man struggled and swung his arms to reach but Cyrus was too strong to let him get past.

“I made it. Now, give me the right price.”

“Fine. I’ll give you seven silver coins.”

“Make it ten each and I’ll give you three.” Aradhel placed two more small flasks on the counter, making the old man’s eyes widen.

“Argh, fine. You have a deal. Tell me where you got these.” The man bent over and grabbed a pouch, letting it fall onto the counter with a thud. He took thirty silver coins and handed them to Cyrus, who then gave the alchemist the third flask.

“Sorry, but that’s a trade secret. By the way, how much would a blood red potion cost? And before you get all excited, no I don’t have one on me.” Cyrus pocketed the silver coins.

“I’ve never seen one in my entire life, but they’d probably go for a couple gold. I heard those things could cure just about anything, even an entire limb if you had enough!” The old man began to daydream without ever noticing the pair leave the shop.

Cyrus wondered why no one used the plants in the forest so close by. But he guessed it had something to do with the difficulty of the forest for people in real life, where respawns don’t exist. Even the guard was quite scared of a dire wolf, which were mid-beginner level monsters, a little tougher than a few goblins.

For the rest of the night, Cyrus and Aradhel, mainly Cyrus, haggled their way through store after store, getting what they needed, though most was for Aradhel. They also were able to buy a cheap canvas bag for Aradhel to carry and put the rest of the potions in. They had found an incredibly cheap inn and rented a night with one bed for a couple’s reduction price, at the expense of Aradhel’s embarrassment. Although there was no bath, much to both member’s disappointment. They had roughly eighteen silvers left after their recent shopping spree. What they were not able to afford were horses that would speed up their current travels, but Cyrus already had a plan for that. There was a stable by the inn and he had heard sounds of horses from inside.

He had planned to leave with Aradhel in the middle of the night to steal a couple horses and hope a guard doesn’t catch them before they leave. Or maybe he did. His recent desire for bloodshed was more than unsettling, compared to his desire for bloodshed during a fight.

After eating a bland and unimpressive dinner compliments of inn, Aradhel in her new civilian clothes and Cyrus went over the plan in their tiny room. Cyrus, himself, had never ridden a horse, but his character could and he made a good guess as to his riding ability. Aradhel was quite hesitant about stealing and even more so for killing, but she knew she had no choice.

During his playing time, Cyrus had to figure out exactly what he wanted out of the game. He wanted to play to enjoy it. Therefore, he chose the warrior path first because he had always admired the knights and samurais of old. But once he mastered that class, he wanted to try something completely opposite, in terms of playing style. Therefore, he chose the assassin class, one where he could relish in thought out assassinations of other players. Now that Cyrus thought about it, he probably had some issues to pick those two to fight, but it wasn’t the time to delve into his psyche to root out his issues. Fortunately, he can now somewhat justify his mental problems by using what he could to steal the horses. Not that Cyrus thought it would be all too difficult. Two horses, how hard could it be?

Turns out harder than it should have been. Cyrus had not only successfully, and quite easily, stolen the horses without any notice. He did have to knock a beefy man with an axe sitting by the entrance of the inn though. The real problems began after they were slowly clopping down small streets.

Aradhel rode without problem, a product of royal teachings. But as soon as she saw a guard, who was actually asleep against a wall, she panicked and rode her horse at full speed out of the town. The town not being overly large, helped in that regard, but the noise the horse made alerted many of the guards if not all. Fortunately, they were out of the town by the time they began chase but with a large group like that, Cyrus knew he couldn’t let too many follow. The two could probably outride them if need be, but he didn’t know if they would stop looking. He needed to get rid of the witnesses and fast. 

Once the town was out of sight, Cyrus yelled, “Keep going a couple miles and wait for me!” Aradhel looked back, but kept riding until she was out of sight as well.

The group was about five hundred feet behind now and seemed to only be five guards. Not that there were too many in that town. “Most of them must have stayed back just in case of an impending attack.” 

Letting her go, Cyrus stopped his horse and jumped off. His jet black cloak fluttered as the wind blew over the plain. He led the horse off of the road so as to get it out of the way and tied it to a nearby branch. He stood waiting as the sound of hooves got closer and closer. He could only smile as his unsheathed sword already seemed to drip blood in the dim moonlight.