The High Elves in their hubris think themselves at the pinnacle of all things cultural, yet when was the last time their bards composed a new song? Their poets' new verse? Their tailors a new cut of fashion? Theirs is a legacy of stagnation that permeates all aspects of a society that has not seen change in millennia. What I have done in ten years their best could not do in a hundred. They call us the ‘children of the day’, but I view them as nothing more than a collection of youthful-looking old men set in their ways and bitter crones lamenting a world that once was. It is not the length of one’s life that is the measure of one’s legacy, but one’s accomplishments.
- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.
Still excited by the day's events, we all mutually decided that our trip to the Adventurer’s Guild could wait until morning. There were, after all, just so many hours of daylight. Kidu wanted to familiarize himself with his new equipment, and he held his new spear almost as if it were a lover. Elwin, on the other hand, wanted to go shopping and to see more of the city.
I wanted to voice my disagreement but realized he was a man fully grown and could take care of himself. What else helped sway my opinion was that he was able to purchase some new casual linen clothes, including simple gray tunics and loose trousers for Kidu and myself. Before the evening meal, I chose to practice some of my skills and ventured downstairs to request a few favors from the inn's proprietor.
Clanking down the creaking stairs, I saw that the common room was half-full, the locals already beginning to fill the place as they finished their shifts. I spied the innkeeper Taper mopping up a recent spill on the floor with an irritated look on his face. Waiting for him to finish his chore, I sat down next to the bar.
Eventually, he finished, and served another customer a large measure of ale in a horn stein before finally turning to me.
“What can I get you for? Evening’s meal not for about another two hours or so. I’ll take your order now then if it pleases quick, gots to check on the stew in a bit, see if it's nice and tender. Oh, I can see you’ve got some new gear, hardly recognized you,” he said perfunctorily, barely looking me in the eye.
“Actually, I was wondering if you had something that I could measure time with. I’d be willing to make it worth your while if you had perhaps a sand clock or something?” I said as casually as I could, relaxing on my stool.
He looked at me a little curiously before answering earnestly, “Most folks here just look up to the sun, lad. But, if you’re wanting to be a little more precise, I can sell you an old cooking timer, measures about one hour. Let’s say for about three bronze pieces. Don’t have much need for it now these days.”
“That would be much appreciated, Taper,” I expressed, genuinely pleased, and slid three bronze coins across the bar.
“Two more ales, good innkeeper,” one of the locals shouted from somewhere near the back.
“Be with you in a moment Jefra, just getting something,” the innkeeper replied tersely, pocketing my coin before heading to the back room.
I waited for perhaps a minute or two before Athinad returned with a small bronze hourglass filled with fine black sand, perhaps fifteen centimeters in height, at a rough guess. It wasn’t particularly beautiful, but it certainly looked practical, with small indents on the glass that demarcated ten-minute intervals up to an hour.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Placing it on the counter he looked to me and inquired, “Have no idea what you’re wanting with this, and for three bronze I really don’t care either way. But can I do you for anything else?”
“No, thank you kindly. This will do just nicely,” I said as I got up off the stool, feeling a little stiff around the waist due to my armor. I stretched for a moment before cradling the hourglass in one of my hands. I nodded once more to the innkeeper, who was already taking another drink order, and made my way back to our room.
Athinad’s shrill voice followed me up the stairs, “Don’t forget! The evening meal’s in two turns of that glass!” he shouted.
I couldn’t help but smile to myself, as I finally had a way to measure time. This meant I could more precisely measure the scope of my abilities, instead of relying on blind guesswork. The game world seemed to agree as I was gifted with another notification as I clanked my way back up the stairs.
You have gained 1 Wisdom.
Opening the door, I was greeted by the sight of Kidu inspecting his new weapon. I greeted the wildman and was given a small grunt in return, as he was so engrossed in his work. Checking my status, I made note that my Mana was at two points after having cast Identify at multiple shop signs throughout the day. I settled into the chair, took off my gloves and cast Identify on a random passerby to bring my Mana to exactly one point before turning over my new hourglass.
Hallise Randefor - Baker (Human lvl.8)
Health: 88/88
Stamina: 29/29
Mana: 9/9
I quickly dismissed the unimportant information and, with a little time on my hands, I decided to join Kidu in the maintenance of our gear. I stood up from the chair and took off my robes and armor, feeling a small sense of relief as I removed my heavy brigandine. Next to come off were the gambeson, bevor, and my visored helm, followed slowly by my iron greaves and chainmail leggings. Looking at my equipment I couldn’t help but feel a little impressed with my layers of protection.
Remembering Cillis’ instructions concerning the maintenance of my armor, I checked over my new equipment. I did this more out of a need to form a habit than actual necessity. This did not last long, as often my thoughts would wander back to my time with the smith in the tool shed. Shrugging off those distracting thoughts from my mind, I focused back on the task at hand and finished my inspection.
I could see now why the warriors of antiquity had a very personal relationship with their armor, as my hands roved across the hard surfaces. Each piece was designed to soften a blow or turn a blade to protect the wearer’s life and was deserving of respect and care.
Once I had finished the ceremony of the maintenance of my arms and armor, I gazed fixedly at the hourglass. The sands continued to trickle down until, finally, the top half-emptied, marking the end of an hour. Soon afterward my Mana ticked up by a single point, signaling the success of my experiment and establishing a baseline for my Mana regeneration. I did not require ‘rest’ in the traditional sense of most games to restore my magical energies.