I strode into the store like I belonged there, like I had enough money to purchase anything in the shop. At least I hoped it was a shop. If it was a club, or secret society or something similar I imagined I would be bounced out faster than I had entered.
With an internal sigh of relief, I took in the array of glass cases and shelves that contained books, scrolls and other curiosities. There were two people working behind the counters, and I could see that the back side of the counters were lined with elevated platforms. That was necessary because the clerks were small. Standing a little over three feet tall, they were older with dusky skin and rings of hair the color of burnished copper poking out from their otherwise bald heads. They appeared to be identical twins. They had wide, overly large eyes compared to human norms, and expressive mouths. Both were helping other customers when I entered, but one took the time to meet my eyes and nod in greeting. I pegged them as gnomes or something similar.
Less welcoming were the guards. A trio of brutish looking orcs, armored and festooned with a variety of weapons, stood spread throughout the shop. The one closest to me, who was standing directly to the right of the door, checked me out with hard eyes as I entered. If Walmart employed these guys as greeters, they certainly wouldn’t have a shoplifting problem.
I wandered through the shop, which was only the size of a large bedroom, peering in display cases and scanning the contents of the shelves. My gaze was immediately drawn to one case that had a decent sized collection of essence crystals. There weren’t enough to fill the whole case, but the fifteen or twenty that were in stock were very noticeable as they each glowed with their individual patterns of coruscating beams of light.
For a moment I was at war with myself. Although saving others of my kind was a worthy and laudable goal, the greedy part of me thought about trying to trade the crystals I had for others that I could use,. At least one other. After all, how could I benefit my brothers and sisters in captivity if I wasn’t strong enough to protect myself?
Another display held a variety of vials of liquid in all the colors of the rainbow. Potions, I assumed. Much of the room contained what, on first glance, looked like miscellaneous junk. There was a demonic looking fetus floating in unknown liquid in a large glass jar. A variety of clothing, none of it particularly nice aesthetically, was displayed on racks. One counter was full of jewelry, rings, bracelets, necklaces and the like. There were even a few weapons and pieces of armor.
After several minutes, a customer finally left and one of the clerks looked up at me.
“What can I help you with?” he asked.
“I have acquired a couple of essence crystals that aren’t compatible with me. I was wondering if you would like to buy them, or trade them for something that I can use.”
“Essence crystals?” he replied. “Certainly we are interested. I’m a little confused, though. You aren’t thinking about trying to absorb more than one, are you?”
“Do you think that would be a problem?”
“You must have come into your money recently. Yes, it would definitely be a problem. How should I put it? Each time you absorb an essence crystal after your first one you run the risk of a wide range of undesirable side effects. One of the most common would be a brain hemorrhage. Your brain can’t deal with the conflicting energies and you burst a vessel and bleed out internally. Even if that doesn’t happen, though, other things can. Some people start seeing things or hearing voices that aren’t there. Others develop multiple personalities. More than a few that have done what you propose fall into a catatonic state and waste away, unable to eat or drink anything or to respond in any way to external stimuli. They become trapped in the maze of their minds. While there have been people who have successfully absorbed and integrated two, and on a couple of occasions three essence crystals, those people are few compared to the huge number that have ruined their lives.”
I fought the urge to gulp, or to stand there slack-jawed. I did what? Way to go James, you ignoramus. You are like a freaking toddler with a lighter and a puddle of gasoline. If this world doesn’t do you in, you are likely to do it to yourself.
Struggling internally, I hoped none of this showed on my face.
“Well, given that I have already absorbed one crystal, I will take your warning to heart,” I said. “I am glad that I met such an honest business person who is worried about the welfare of his customers. The person who sold me these two and the one I absorbed didn’t give me any such warning.”
“I don’t know where you are from,” he replied. “Most people with the means to acquire a crystal learn that lesson in their childhood. I assume the merchant who sold you these thought you already knew all of this.”
Pulling my two remaining essence crystals out of my pack, I placed them on the counter. Scooping them up, he looked up at me.
“Do you mind if I take these to the back and test them?” he said.
“No problem, I’ll just browse while you do.”
He opened a door behind the counter and retreated into the back of the shop. I started browsing, but at one point accidentally locked eyes with one of the orcish guards. He had a slightly disgusted, puzzled look on his face and just shook his head when we made eye contact.
A few moments later, the gnome returned, climbing short steps back up to the platform. Placing the essence crystals on the counter, he began to bargain.
“These are both reasonably powerful and fairly fresh. I would be willing to offer you 2,000 gold or the equivalent in gems for each one. If you want to trade for in stock items, I could probably do a little better.”
Don’t take the first offer. Don’t take the first offer I silently chanted to myself. Reasonably fresh? They were essentially hot off the press. Although that was a ton of money, I thought this guy was trying to work me over. I plastered a mournful look on my face.
“Wow,” I said. “I knew I would lose money on resale, but accepting that amount would break me. How about 4,000?”
I thought that I could see the gnome fighting the urge to smile. I must have undershot, and not just a little bit. It was at that point that he knew he had me.
We went back and forth, offer and counter offer. In some ways, he seemed like he was just going through the motions of trying to squeeze every last iota of profit from the transaction. I mostly held firm, but was persuaded to drop my price a little due to the limited resale market and the fact that I really needed the cash to be competitive at the slave auction. We finally settled on 3,750 gold pieces each, or 4,000 in trade value.
I spent most of the rest of the day having him describe some of the items in the shop. Although a magic weapon would be nice, I already had the staff and thought I should focus on other priorities. As he was listing off his items, a couple drew my attention. One was a tome entitled Meditations on Light by someone named Erasmus Nickleberry. I thought maybe I could use it to jump start my progress on harnessing my magic. The other item was a ring. It allowed the user to disguise his or her appearance as a humanoid of similar size. Provided it was effective, I could use it to solve the whole five-fingered issue, although I assume there were people who could see through it so I would need to be careful. To throw off any suspicion generated by my interest in the item, I muttered some semi-intelligible things about gambling debts.
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When our bargain was finished, I walked out with both items but only 1,500 pieces of gold. I only took one hundred fifty gold in coins with the rest denominated in a few expensive gems. The ring was very pricey at 5,000 gold, while the tome only cost a fraction of that. Still, I was walking around with more money than I ever thought I would see in this world, and I still had a ton of jewelry to sell.
I had whiled away most of the rest of the day in the shop. When I left, I could see that the gnome was working hard to try to contain his glee. Even the orcish guards had warmed up a little.
“Have a good day, sir,” the guard at the door said as I exited the shop.
When the door closed, I could faintly hear gales of laughter erupt behind the door. Yeah, I had just been taken for a ride. Ruefully chuckling to myself, I recalled the debacle with the sporty car I just had to have. Hopefully things would end up better this time.
I decided to treat myself to a nice place to stay for a couple of nights. Tomorrow, I would try to unload some of the jewelry. Hopefully, the deals would end up a little more in my favor, but I wasn’t holding my breath. I felt like I was wandering around town with a sign that said “rube” pinned to the back of my tunic.
Briefly, I considered going back in to the shop to ask for a recommendation for a place to stay, but I decided not to as I didn’t want to ruin their fun.
It was getting fairly dark out. The streets of the town were intermittently lit with torches and oil lanterns, but I was starting to feel like the place had a different character after dark. Groups of rough looking, well-armed men wandered the streets, drunk and boisterous. I saw a few fights. Although most were basic brawls, on a couple of occasions I witnessed blood spilled when weapons were drawn.
The few town guards that I saw were always in a hurry, moving quickly from one place to another to try to ensure at least a minimal amount of law and order.
I felt conspicuous because almost nobody was moving about individually. Everyone traveled the streets in groups of at least two, but even pairs seemed to walk with a purpose, scanning the streets around them for threats. And then there was me, a solitary individual dressed in nice clothing. Maybe instead of “rube” the sign on my back read “rob me”.
I quickly abandoned my plan to find the nicest place in town to treat myself. I just needed to find somewhere, anywhere, that I could hole up safely until the sun rose again.
Somehow, through blind luck, my wandering had brought me to a nicer section of town. There were a few more guards on the streets, and the area looked a bit more prosperous. It wasn’t a place for wealthy people, but instead seemed to cater to the honest tradesmen of the area. I found myself on a street with several inns. The first two I entered didn’t have any rooms available, but the third, an inn named Pleasant Voyages, had one room available. It was actually a suite, and the room itself cost five gold pieces per night with no food or drink included. Compared to the prices back in Sleetfield, the rate was extortionate but I needed off the street so I paid for two nights.
The room itself was nothing special. It had a moderate sized sitting area, a private bath and a bedroom with a comfortable bed complete with a feather mattress. I placed my things in the room and got cleaned up. Then, I donned my newly purchased ring and envisioned someone who looked just like me except with bare six-fingered hands instead of gloved hands. Of course, I kept the gloves on in case anyone could pierce the illusion.
Then, I went down to the common room and had an exorbitantly priced meal with a couple of drinks. Either this place was a boomtown or prices rose precipitously as one approached the capital. I hoped it was the former and not the latter, or else my riches wouldn’t stretch very far.
Returning back to my room, I locked the door and had a peaceful night of rest.
The next day, I went from one jewelry store to another trying to unload some of my plundered riches. Before I entered each one, I scoped out the clientele and selected a couple of pieces that seemed to fit their socioeconomic status. I don’t know whether I did well or not, but my pack was lighter and I was another five hundred gold richer. I still had quite a lot to sell, including some of the more valuable looking pieces, but I didn’t want to raise suspicion or paint a target on my back.
That night, I once again left my things in my room and went down to the common room of the inn. The food in the place was fairly mediocre as most of the dishes were made with boiled meat. Boiled meat, really? The locals, on the other hand, seemed to be treating it like the height of fine dining.
Seating was a little odd to my modern American sensibilities. Although there were a few tables for private groups, most of the room was dominated by long wooden tables with equal length benches. Unless you had a private table reserved, you just found a space and plopped down at one of the benches, kind of like bellying up to the bar. Since I was in no hurry to get back to my room, I was surrounded by a lot of different groups throughout the evening.
Towards the end of the evening, a group of orcs, apparently craftsmen, plopped down in the seats around me. They already seemed well-lubricated. Speaking and laughing boisterously, they regaled each other with tall tales. The party got into a particularly heated argument when one man claimed that he had slept with a giantess. It didn’t seem that anyone was buying it. Finally, in exasperation, he turned to me.
“You don’t think my story is far-fetched, do you?”
I was honestly at a loss for words. I didn’t know shit about giants. Finally, after a pause to consider my response, I spoke.
“I suppose it could have happened . . .”
“See, this is an obviously a man who has seen the world,” he bellowed out to his companions. “You dolts haven’t traveled anywhere more distant than Westfield. If you ever do, you will learn. Yes, you will learn that the world holds many terrible and wondrous things.”
I suppose he was just trying to sell it, but man he was a little over the top. That’s how I got pulled into their conversation. For not immediately expressing disbelief, the orc decided he owed me a drink. One thing led to another, and soon I was socializing with the lot of them. As time passed, most of the members of the group wandered off until finally I was left with the original man who had addressed me, Uzul, and his friend Morbash.
I have to admit I was having a good time. I found the two of them to be witty, digging at each other as only good friends can. I nursed my drinks, not wanting to get overly intoxicated because I had to get up early to travel the next day. I got no end of crap about that from the two.
The common room was about to shut down for the night, but neither of the two orcs seemed like they wanted the party to end.
“Hey, I know where there is a bard playing down the street,” Morbash interjected. “I hear she’s good. What do you say we head over there and listen in?”
“That’s a good plan,” Uzul said. “Are you up for it, James?”
After what I had experienced the last time I was out after dark, I was pretty reluctant. Then, I realized that we would be moving together in a group and that would provide a degree of safety. And I have always had a weakness for live music.
“I don’t know, the streets are pretty rough after dark,” I replied.
“Don’t worry, it’s not far and we’ll walk you back if you are too scared to do it on your own,” Uzul said with a wink.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
So we headed out into the night. Morbash took the lead and Uzul walked beside me, chatting amiably.
“We’ll take the quick way,” Morbash said, ducking into a narrow lane. We turned to follow. I was a little creeped out because I couldn’t see anyone else on this street but I felt safe with my new friends. I felt safe right up to the point that Uzul shoved me into a wall and Morbash turned and swung his hand at my head, gripping some sort of sap or cosh.
I had let my guard down, I’ll admit it. Off balance, I stumbled and took a glancing blow to the side of my head, momentarily stunned.
Uzul grinned at me evilly, no longer seeming deep in his cups.
“The companies are paying good money for rowers, James,” he whispered.
Damn it, I was being press-ganged. What was it with this world? Did nobody just like to hang out and have a good time?