Max and Anita stood in the shelter of the walkway inches from the rain, moments from being thrown back into the wilderness or beaten over the head by the gatekeeper’s club, then skewered by the guardsmen’s spears. It had been a good plan to Sneak into the town. If only his Sneak ability had not failed just as he’d opened the gate to let Anita in.
Max tried to use his Sneak ability to melt into the shadows once again.
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> Max activates Sneak ability.
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> Sneak failed.
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He guessed that with the guards and the gatekeeper watching him, his Sneak ability couldn’t be activated. Apparently, he needed to be out of sight first. Just as he considered stepping back into the meadowlands and making a run for it into the darkness, he spotted an old man striding along the main street toward the gatehouse, his staff clicking on the cobbles. He called out as he came.
“Hold there, gatekeeper.”
The man wore a huge gray cloak and a tall hat with a wide brim hat sat atop his head, tapering to a point and crumpling sideways. The rain appeared to clear around the man, raindrops diverted from their course and falling away to the side, creating a space of clear, dry air around him. His boots splashed in the puddles on the ground, but the falling rain didn’t touch him.
He walked briskly for an old man, a tall staff in his hand, a sword on his belt. Max saw deep-set dark eyes hidden in shadow under that wide brim hat. They looked dangerous.
The gatekeeper turned around.
“Elderon Whitesilver,” the gatekeeper said, his voice faltering. “These are intruders. You yourself told us darkness walks abroad in these perilous times.”
Anita stepped forward, ignoring the guardsman’s spear hovering an inch from her bare flesh.
“Elderon, you cunning old Mage. What brings you into the wild kingdoms? I thought you’d be resting in the Mage towers of Essillt by now.”
“Anita,” the Mage called out in good cheer, lifting the brim of his hat. “I sensed an ally was nearby. Good to see you, my girl. And I see you’ve brought someone with you.”
“We fortuitously met in the forest valley and faced danger together. I would not be here now if it were not for him.”
Elderon stopped a few feet away.
“And who are you, novice adventurer? What profession are you?”
“I’m just a . . .” Max hesitated. With these spears hovering so close, it might be a bad idea to admit he was a professional thief, even if he had every intention of leaving that life behind. “I’m just a guy looking to get out of the rain.”
“He’s lost,” Anita chimed in. “I found him cornered up a tree by a wolf.”
“You are lucky Anita found you. Where do you come from, Max? I sense it is far from here.”
The gatekeeper interrupted the reunion. “Master Mage, I have instructions from the mayor to throw out any strangers.”
“We are not strangers, Anita and I,” Elderon said. “And Max and Anita are clearly good and honest adventurers. A small party but a powerful one, I suspect. If the mayor has any issues, I will speak to him and clear things. You may rest easy, gatekeeper, and let these two into the town.”
The gatekeeper nodded, then dismissed the other guards. He closed the town gate with a huff and trudged back to his hut.
Elderon stepped toward them and Max slid into the dry air around Elderon where the rain seemed to move aside.
“Let’s get you two in front of a roaring fire, so you can dry off and warm up. Maybe a meat pie and some ale.”
Elderon turned toward the gatehouse. “Good work,” he said with a wave to the gatekeeper, who was peering out of the hut’s little window. “I’ll take care of them now.”
The road from the main gate into the town was built from tightly packed cobblestones. Max tried to stay out of the little rivers of water than ran between the cobbles. His thin leather boots were now thoroughly soaked, but there was no reason to get them any wetter. Most homes and businesses along the main street were closed up for the night, but one caught his attention.
The thief noticed a large timber-and-thatch building with iron-working equipment outside where a large forge was cooling down from its day’s work. A sign made from twisted metal hung from a wooden beam under the thatched roof, declaring to all that this was Jack’s Forge.
I bet he gets a lot of business, with all the wolves out there, he thought idly.
The cobble street went straight up the hill to the large building in the center of town that Max had previously seen from the high walk on the palisade. He felt sure Elderon was leading them toward that building and was surprised when Elderon took a sharp right and led them into a narrow, muddy path between thatched buildings. The buildings were now a mixture of businesses and family homes with a baker here, a cobbler there, all of them pressed tightly together in this side street.
As they walked on the muddy, slippery path covered in straw and gravel, not the firm cobbles of the main street, the distant sounds of music and raucous laughter grew louder. Again, Elderon took a turn off the short street and led them to a wide, thatched building. An open door in the center of the whitewashed wall opened up on the bright orange glow of the interior, lit and warmed by a huge fire. Smoke poured up a stone chimney in the middle of the roof, and the thatch steamed as the heat inside drove off the rain. A wooden board hung outside swinging from hooks, on it a picture of a pig wearing a jester’s outfit complete with a multicolored, three-pointed hat. The pig held a stick with a jester’s head on it as it danced about on its hind legs.
Elderon took off his tall, pointy hat and ducked through the low doorway. Anita and Max followed.
The Dancing Pig tavern was dominated inside by a large firepit about six feet long and two feet wide, surrounded by a low brick wall. Logs crackled in the fire, and the coals underneath gave off a welcome blast of warmth. Max could feel the heat driving away the rain that had soaked through his light cotton shirt.
Elderon led them to a small table at one side of the building, close enough to the fire to feel its warmth but not so close that they would cook like the large cauldron of broth that hung over the fire and bubbled away.
A serving girl quickly approached the table. Her light top hung loose over her round shoulders, and a short skirt with a pouch for coins hung from her belt.
Elderon ordered two bowls of broth, three tankards of Dwarven ale, and a large meat pie.
Max’s stomach suddenly reminded him he hadn’t eaten in a really long time.
The serving girl brought two wooden bowls filled with steaming broth and Elderon slid one in front of each of them. Max ate greedily, putting down the spoon after a few mouthfuls and drinking the broth straight from the bowl. He put the bowl down heavily with a satisfied sigh when he’d finished and could feel his Health improving. A quick check showed his Health bar slowly refilling.
The meat pie arrived on a large oval dish soon after. Elderon picked up a knife and cut a large slice then waved his hand over the pie. The slice rose up from the dish, steam and gravy leaking out of the cut. The Mage’s fingers twirled as he drew the slice upward, enticing it with his dancing fingers. He moved it across the table and dropped it into Max’s bowl, then served Anita in the same way.
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Max ate the pie greedily, savoring the rich gravy, meat, carrots, and potatoes. It was delicious, and by the time he finished it, he was no longer hungry. Another stat check showed his Health bar was almost halfway restored to full Health.
The serving girl returned with three mugs of ale and placed them on the table in front of each of them. Max took a sip and found it was strong and bitter with a powerful aroma. The flavor sweetened after a moment, and he felt the strong ale warm him inside. He took a deep draft of the ale and sat back contentedly in his chair, watching the fire.
Wherever this strange world was, wherever he had ended up, at least for the moment, he was warm and no longer hungry. He looked across the table at Elderon, who was regarding him with dark, deep-set eyes.
“You look much recovered, Max,” the Mage said.
Max nodded and took another deep drink from the tankard of ale.
“What brings you so far south, Elderon?” Anita asked.
“I am searching for the source of the darkness that has entered our world.”
Anita nodded. “The Druids, too, have detected the darkness. My Order has tasked me with discovering what I can of this mystery. It is affecting the wild animals. We fear it may soon affect people.”
“Indeed, it has already begun to affect people,” Elderon said. “The Mage high council in Essillt has sent me out into the world to discover what I can of this dark phenomenon that has been growing these many months.”
The Mage looked at Max. “But now, I have found you.” He smiled. “I sense you are meant for something special, Max. I hope I can help you discover your inner strength. I see you are a novice, and you have not yet chosen a profession, an adventuring class. Maybe I can help you. Consider it a favor for helping out my young friend Anita.”
Max had always thought he had been wasting his time and talents stealing for his old boss. He knew there was something more important that he should be doing with his life—something special he should be doing. It was as if there was a voice that he could hear only vaguely, one he often hoped to hear more clearly, a voice deep within that would tell him what it was he was meant to do. He sat back in his seat and looked at Elderon, whose features had softened, and his eyes seemed less dark and dangerous. The old Mage was smiling at him.
The thief took another deep draft of his ale and finished it off. He picked up his burlap sack that contained the few coins he had collected on his journey so far.
“Thank you, Elderon,” Max said with a smile. It was about time to put his old ways behind him.
He looked across the large room, past all the singing and dancing and the people at tables with tankards and smoking pipes. He looked at the simple bar at the far end of the tavern where barrels of ale were stacked and a pair of pretty serving girls chatted with customers. “First, let me buy us another round of drinks.”
Max pushed himself to his feet and walked toward to the bar at the end of the building. The flickering flames made the shadows dance on the rough plaster walls. A feeling of anxiety washed over him, making it hard to breath.
What am I doing here? I work alone.
Maybe if he ditched these adventurers, he could find his own way back to the city. He had picked up a handful of gold coins, surely enough to head clear across the country and find a nice beachfront property out west. Somewhere that was always warm and sunny where he could drink fresh-squeezed orange juice every morning and fine aged rum every night, far from the troubles of this strange world of Eveirea.
He looked in the burlap sack for the coin pouch and then saw the letter the farmer had given him for his daughter. The farmer had told him to head for the washer house on the main street in Burke. He glanced over the table where the old Mage, Elderon, and Anita, the sexy Druid, were chatting like old friends or maybe like an old uncle and a favorite niece.
Activating his Sneak ability in the shadows at the side of the bar when no one was watching was easy. He successfully disappeared into the shadows, and he moved toward the open door, slipping back into the rain—a small price to pay for freedom.
Max found his way back to the main street easily enough. He’d always had a good sense of direction, and although this town was large, the high stone building in the center of town made it easy for him to get his bearings. He walked along the cobbles of the main street. The pair of guards marching past him as if he weren’t even there.
He quickly found the washer house. A wooden sign hanging from the thatch showed a large tub of soapy water and clothes hanging on a line. Max knocked on the wooden door and waited out of the rain under the dripping thatch.
A soft voice called out, “Who’s there?”
“My name is Max. I am a friend of your father. He asked me to bring you a letter.”
The door opened on a steamy and warm single-room cottage. A large pot was boiling over a fire, and clothes hung on lines that crisscrossed the room, dripping onto draining boards. The heat and moisture made it feel like a sauna to Max as he stepped into the building. The air was fragrant with herb-scented soaps, and he felt his tired muscles relax.
The woman who answered the door had wavy brown hair and wore a thin white blouse that did little to hide her full figure.
“Oh, thank you so much, kind sir. It has been so long since I’ve had word from my father. I miss him dearly.” She looked up Max. “I get so lonely here by myself.”
Max used his newfound power of analysis to check out the farmer’s daughter, though he could already see most of what he needed to know inside her loose blouse.
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> Name: Meg
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> Status: Inviting
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He handed over the letter.
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> Max gains experience points.
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He barely noticed his stats in the steam rising from the bubbling caldron, his attention firmly held by the farmer’s beautiful and voluptuous daughter. He saw the experience points pouring into his XP meter but his other stats were shrouded in a fog. A message appeared in shining golden letters which was enough to draw his attention away from Meg.
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> Max has leveled up.
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That’s new, Max thought, but before he could ponder exactly what it meant Meg spoke again.
“I must reward you for bringing me this letter,” the young woman said. She turned and walked to a small box on the floor at one end of the steamy, sweltering room. Meg removed a small bundle from the box and turned to Max, smiling. She walked forward through the steam like a luscious goddess bearing gifts.
She extended the bundle toward him. “I’ve had these here for months. Someone passing through town paid me to wash his traveling gear, and then he vanished without a trace. I can’t hold onto it forever, and since you have done me a great service bringing me my father’s letter, I want to give them to you.”
Max took the bundle which appeared to be a well-made coat and boots. “Thank you very much,” he said. “I was coming to town anyway and was happy to pass on the letter. Your father gave me these clothes and soft boots for helping him, and I was happy to do him this favor.”
Max could tell the boots Meg had just given him were better than the ones he currently had on his feet. They had a sturdier sole, and the insides of the boots were bound with fur.
“Can I try them on?”
Meg nodded, smiled, took his hand, and led him through the steam to a chair near the fire. He sat down and peeled off the soft leather boots. They would be good for climbing, Max thought, so he put them into his burlap sack. He tried on the new boots. They were soft and comfortable and warm. He pulled on the coat and tried it on for size. It fit perfectly.
Meg smiled down at him. “Would you like an ale?” she asked. “The fire is warm, and my work is done. It has been a long time since I’ve had a handsome young man as a guest.”
Max didn’t trust himself to say anything so he simply nodded. Meg disappeared and returned a moment later carrying two small tankards of ale.
Was her blouse open that far before? Max thought as he fought to keep his mouth from falling open.
She bent over and set them down in front of the fire.
Max swallowed hard as he looked down her blouse which seemed ready to fall off completely.
Meg looked up at him with a smile. “Dwarven ale tastes better warm,” she explained before standing back up. She moved to the thick sheepskin rug that was right in front of him and beckoned for him to join her on the rug as she gracefully sat down, her legs crossed.
Max was reluctant to go down with her, not because she wasn’t beautiful but because from his vantage point on this stool, he could see almost every inch of her shapely figure.
He relented, though, and let her pull him down to the rug, and they sat together in front of the fire. The heat and the steam were intoxicating, or maybe it was just the dwarven ale that was clouding his mind.
“You look hot,” she said. “This coat is for outdoors to keep you warm and dry.” She moved around behind him and peeled off the coat then tossed it aside.
A moment later, he felt her delicate hands on his shoulders. The gently moved down his arms.
“Your shirt is soiled,” she whispered in his ear. “Let me wash it for you.”
Max’s heart pounded and his head swam but he didn’t do anything to stop her. Before he knew it she was pulling the shirt over his head. She walked to a wash basin in the corner and spent a few moments bent over the tub washing his shirt then hung it on one of the clothes lines.
Meg looked down at him when she was done. She playfully bit her lip, a twinkle in her eye, as she studied his bare chest.
He was no muscleman, but Max was fit. His many climbing adventures for his old boss had led to a toned physique. The farmer’s daughter walked around him, running a finger across his shoulder, leaving a trail of tingling skin in its wake.
Max looked into the flames. The warmth . . . the soft farmer’s daughter . . . Max wondered if this world, Eveirea, was in fact heaven, and he was the guest of honor.
In the flickering flames, he saw his stats again, still shrouded by the misty cloud, and over the top were the golden letters.
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> Level up
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What did the message mean, and why was it stopping him from seeing his stats? He felt fit, but the last time he’d seen his Health, it was barely half full. He needed to keep an eye on it so it didn’t drop too low. He didn’t want to be critical again. Maybe Elderon could help him or Anita.
The intrigue was almost enough to make him forget about the young woman at his side. Meg was undeniably a true beauty, and she was clearly interested in him, a mysterious stranger new in town. But Max was having a hard time ignoring those golden letters, and the mystery was driving him crazy—maybe even more crazy than the tantalizing caress of Meg, the farmer’s daughter.
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> Level up
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Max had a choice to make.