The inside of The Lion’s Den looked like what Jace had expected the Gilded Swan to be. The main floor was massive, and he half wondered if he had stepped into a TARDIS-type contraption as the space looked far larger than the outside dimensions of the building. They entered the gaming area and walked between dozens of tables where characters threw dice, played cards, spun medieval roulette wheels, and engaged in other ventures of chance. Few characters wore armor, the men opting for tight fighting suits and even tighter dresses for the women. Modern design styles had been implemented into ancient textile fabrication to produce a steampunk-like ensemble.
Shirtless males and females moved through the tables offering drinks and hors d'oeuvres. They were mainly elf and human, with a few half-orcs thrown in. Dwarves and halflings were too short to effectively reach over the heads of the seated gamblers and serve their drinks. The waiters and waitresses stoically endured the groping and lewd comments as they proffered refreshments, wearing only a tiny wrap around their waists that barely extended to mid-thigh.
A 100-foot bar stood along the back wall, where dwarves moved about on an elevated platform, serving beverages ranging from the strongest ales to the finest wines. Jace saw bubbling concoctions of colored liquid that hissed and steamed when combined, but patrons threw them back with abandon, often passing out on the floor for a few moments only to pop up afterward and ask for another.
On one side of the gaming tables stood the restaurant, where a more subdued crowd feasted on lobster, steak, slow-cooked meats, and an extravagant assortment of desserts. While on the other, a club atmosphere filled two levels, as a large balcony ringed three sides of the room. Magical lights pulsed, and music blared while characters danced, drank, and smoked themselves into a frenzy. A center stage featured scantily clad NPCs who were paid to perform, but it seemed everyone was dancing to the music. Most players joined the wait staff, mimicking the minimal dress code. Jace was sure he saw several groups engaging in activity that even his previous high nudity setting would have turned into a pixilated mess.
More than just sights and sounds assaulted Jace’s heightened settings. The combination of pipeweed, ale, savory meats, and sweet fruits mixed into a sensory overload. While his Environment settings had been turned down, he hadn’t noticed the temperature much unless they were in extreme cold, but now he was sweating. The illusion that produced his clothes was real enough that his shirt stuck to him, and he understood the desire so many patrons had embraced to remove it.
Jace took a moment to regard Esther in this environment and noticed her uncomfortableness too. When she wore her armor, as she did now, her hair was up, and Jace could see the sweat rolling down her neck. But it wasn’t just the environmental settings that distressed her.
The woman had expressed regret for using people and sending them to their deaths, but not necessarily for her specific line of work. But she was used to the Gilded Swan, a refined place of pleasure, beauty, and relaxation where you could attain the company of a civilized man or woman for a time. This was raucous, base debauchery, which turned Esther’s stomach. Jace also felt she was above it. With all the flesh and sensuality around them, she remained an island of pure grace and beauty that none in this crowd could ever hope to attain. Even so, few noticed her, and in their drug-crazed fervor, even fewer recognized her. Any attempt to approach the beautiful woman was squashed when they saw Psycho and knew why she was there, or at least whom she was supposed to see.
Wallace also stayed aloof. Young girls were perhaps not as enticed by such exotic frivolity as their male counterparts, but Jace had also picked up that this wasn’t her first time here, and she was strictly business. The paladin was one of the few people wearing armor in the building, and she stuck out like a sore thumb with her rigid and disciplined walk.
{I don’t think you need me to explain any of this,} Gracie piped in. Jace agreed.
The elven ranger led them across the narrow width of the long rectangular building and through a door beside the bar guarded by two more of the ubiquitous half-orcs. He knew it was probably racist, but as an orc himself, he felt relatively biased free thinking that all of the guards looked the same. Of course, if the town generated them based on a design that Drescher inputted, they all would be the same.
The sound and pervasive atmosphere of the main floor stayed behind them once they moved through the exit and into a relatively quiet hallway. It led to another guarded entrance, and Psycho took them inside. This room was entirely different, yet Jace sensed the same theme of recreation and pleasure. The space was filled with couches and cushions, reminding him of an Arabian Harem, with everything plush and low to the ground. A large bath big enough to hold a dozen people sat in the corner, filling the room with aromatic steam. Tables lined the walls and sat strategically around the couches. They were mostly empty, with a few wine goblets and shot glasses that still had not been drunk.
Ten people occupied the room when Psycho led his troupe in. Two half-orc guards stood in the back, stationary and oblivious to the decadence around them. Two naked elves, one male and one female, accompanied a human woman in the bath. The woman wore excessive gold jewelry in her dark hair and dangling from her ears, as well as half a dozen jeweled chains around her neck. Another pair of naked male and female elves attended a human mage sitting on one of the couches. Jace thought the man’s black goatee and ridiculously large grin made him a perfect clone of Jafar from the animated Aladdin. He was feeding the elves strawberries and grapes as their hands roamed inside and outside his robes.
Jace ignored the sensual distractions and instead focused on the two PCs who seemed to be waiting for them. A blonde woman, possibly a half-elf, with a striking face and piercing eyes, watched their every move as they stepped into the room and down a few stairs to the primary audience area before the central couch, where she reclined. The woman sipped at a wine glass as she focused on Jace and Esther, but mainly on Esther. She wore a dark brown leather vest over a conservative blue blouse, with black leggings and high-heeled boots. A stylish black hat with a curved brim and a dark blue feather sat on her head. The design was somewhere between cowboy and pirate with an anime flair. She sat comfortably with her legs crossed and her free hand draped along the top of the couch.
Jace was more concerned with the man who sat beside her. This would be Drescher. He was big and broad, with muscled arms and a sleeveless tunic gathered with a simple belt over a loose-fitting pair of pants. He was bald, with an even tan over his entire body. Jace saw no weapons or magical adornments other than one ring on each hand. He felt he should be able to draw his sword and run the man through. However, something in Drescher’s stern visage told him that would be a bad idea.
Jace’s eyes reevaluated the rest of the room briefly and saw the woman beside the big man had shifted her hand down from the couch to within inches of a dagger strapped to her outer leg. On the couch next to them, the mage’s hands were all over the two elves, but his eyes were now focused on Jace. They were both level 22 and undoubtedly would be able to strike first if Jace tried anything. The mage would paralyze him, and the woman, probably a rogue, would get a critical strike with her weapon, leaving him Helpless or worse.
Jace even saw the woman in the bath, level 21, laughing and frolicking with her playmates, never letting her head turn so that she didn’t keep the visitors in her field of vision. The experienced gamer knew a trap when he saw it and tried to relax. Attacking was not the correct way to initiate these negotiations. Jace’s gaze returned to Drescher, and there was a show of respect in his eyes as he saw his opponent come to the correct conclusion.
{You wouldn’t stand a chance,} Gracie added her two cents.
“Elves!” the man cried in a powerful voice. “Leave us. We have business. Please send in Catrina.”
The four elves responded instantly, rising from where they were and retrieving robes from the corner of the room before scampering away without a sound.
Drescher rose from the couch, and Jace saw Esther tense, her hands inches from her swords. “Please,” the big man said, “no weapons.”
The mage on the couch flicked his wrist at the visitors, and their weapons fell to the floor, still in their sheaths. Jace heard a clang from behind him and saw the knight affected too, still standing at the entrance to the room, her sword and shield now on the floor. Esther frowned at the disarming spell and nonchalantly maneuvered her feet until they touched the sheathed rapiers. They instantly disappeared from the floor and into her inventory since they had been set as accessories to her outfit.
{Items dropped from a disarming spell can’t usually be picked up that way for several rounds,} Gracie explained. {It normally requires you to be flat-footed to pick them up.}
Jace saw the blonde on the couch react to the move and detected a twinge of jealousy in her. He laughed when he realized that Esther had several advantages over this woman, even at half her level. Sleeping with over 20 thousand people had its benefits.
“Sir Wallace,” Drescher said, also reacting to the noise of her shield hitting the floor. “So good to see you again.” Jace didn’t think he had seen Esther’s trick as he stood and looked over her shoulder at the knight. “Please come in, have a seat. Drinks should be up shortly.”
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Esther refused to let this encounter phase her, and she stepped past Jace to sit on the smaller couch facing their host. The blonde’s eyes never left her, peering out from underneath the brim of her hat. Drescher saw the interaction and smiled. “I am a terrible host, aren’t I? Let me introduce you. This is Gweniffer,” he said, motioning to the rogue, who stared daggers at Esther. “Over there,” he pointed to the mage who was now feeding himself grapes, “is Pieter. And that bathing beauty is Axilia.”
Jace turned to see the woman emerge from the water, priestly robes adorning her instantly as if she had been wearing them in the bath, but they and her hair were suddenly dry. Her dark red clothes shared the same gold adornments that flowed around her face and hair. She walked barefoot over the tiles and onto the plush carpeting to sit next to Pieter.
A door opened in the back, and a lean, beautiful woman entered. Her costume matched the décor in the room, dressed as an exotic belly dancer. She wore translucent blue pants, slits running up both legs with a gold waistband secured low on her hips. A similar blue scarf was tied over her chest, with a gold embroidered mask covering half her face. Her dark eyes and long lashes peered out from above the covering. A loose braid of her long dark hair hung down her back with golden threads woven through it. She stepped lightly into the room, moving with the grace of a dancer, carrying a tray of drinks and setting it down on the table next to the guest couch. Only Esther was seated there. She did not like the look in the woman’s eyes, reminding her of an animal in a cage – reminding her of herself – but took a drink and thanked her. The woman retreated to a small bar in the room toward the entrance.
“Catrina is the highest-priced woman in my employment,” Drescher said, looking hard at Jace. “It took me months to figure out how to win her from her previous employer, and it cost me a fortune. I understand you found an easier way?” His eyes went down to Esther, who pretended not to pay attention as she sipped her drink. “You must tell me how you did it?”
“Are the negotiations starting?” Jace asked.
“Negotiations?” Drescher laughed. “I think you might misunderstand your purpose here. But we will get to that. Please, have a seat.” Jace reluctantly sat next to Esther. He tried to send her a chat but found the option disabled. Having a stronghold where you can control everything must be nice.
“Sir Wallace, please come, sit down,” Drescher insisted, motioning to the paladin who still hadn’t moved.
She was standing next to Catrina, careful to only look the woman in the eyes. Wallace moved into the middle of the room reluctantly, and Drescher smiled at her. “My business with these two might take a while. No reason to keep you waiting. What do you have for me?”
Wallace stood to the side between the two facing couches so everyone could see her and rolled her eyes into her inventory for a few seconds before a massive sword appeared in her hands. Jace heard a whistle from his right and turned to see Pieter pop off the couch, a few grapes rolling to the floor. “Is that Diamond Etcher?” the mage asked in amazement.
“Yes,” Wallace said, keeping a firm grip on the blade but letting the eager man examine it.
At the word “Diamond,” Esther grew interested and pulled her legs up under her on the couch so she could kneel on the cushion to get a better look.
“It is a level eight +5 great sword,” Wallace continued. “It crits on 18-20, has the Cleave ability, and cancels the natural slashing resistance that stone and metal constructs often have.” She rotated the blade, letting the light in the room sparkle through the massive diamond in the hilt and glint off the razor-sharp edge.
“This weapon was the prize for the Dwarven Jeweler quest, correct?” the mage asked.
Wallace nodded. “Yes, the first person to pass that MIM gets this sword, and everyone else gets a level five longsword +2.”
“Fillan Graves had this, right?” the mage continued showing off his game knowledge. You didn’t kill him, did you? I heard he was level 15 or 16?”
The knight shook her head. “I had completed the quest but didn’t open the chest in the dwarf’s treasury room. I didn’t need a level five longsword, and I knew Fillan was reckless. I subscribed to him and saw he was kicked out of the Gilded Swan with like 20 other people, all complaining about losing their equipment. I realized he might have lost the sword, which would have reset it in the MIM. I raced back to my copy, opened the chest, and . . .” she lofted the sword to demonstrate what she found.
“Very industrious of you,” Drescher complimented the player. He then turned to Pieter, who was obviously his item adviser. “What do you think?”
The mage screwed up his face in thought. “We could get eight, maybe nine to the right player?”
The boss nodded and turned back to Wallace. “I’ll give you five thousand for it.”
The knight rolled her eyes. “I was offered six on my way over here.”
“And if people are only willing to pay six thousand for it, I can’t buy it from you for that, or I won’t make any money. I am running a business here.”
Wallace was smart enough to realize she had little to no bargaining power, but Drescher was feeling charitable. “I’ll give you 5500 for it.”
The knight nodded.
“Good,” he said, stepping forward to take the weapon from her. He wasn’t about to go into his inventory in front of people he didn’t know, so he summoned Catrina over, and the woman carried the blade back to the bar and set it down gently on the counter. Drescher looked over at Axilia, the priest. “Axil, you can make the transfer?”
The woman, who apparently doubled as the man’s accountant, nodded.
“Good,” Drescher said again. “Then let’s talk about the elephant in the room. Five Hit Points. What kind of game are you playing?”
“Drescher,” Wallace said, her voice barely a whisper. “Please. Last time I . . . I mean . . . I couldn’t go through that again. It was . . . It was awful. Just do it quickly. It’s still a million either way.”
Jace was beginning to understand what a sacrifice was and thought he might be sick.
{Like I said before,} Gracie whispered in Jace’s head. {The quickest way to get experience is by killing PCs. You have a million experience at level 12. It would take Drescher weeks to earn that much by questing. But he can get it in one pop by killing Wallace.}
Drescher was less considerate. “I am paying you 10,000 for the whole package. I don’t ask you what you do with the money, and I don’t care how often you come back or how quickly. If you are at 12, I will give you 10,000 for it, but you don’t tell me how it works. You understand?”
It looked like Wallace might cry, an odd look for a muscle-bound man, but Jace could only see a frightened 14-year-old girl when he looked into her eyes. She nodded her head.
“Drescher,” Jace started. “I think you should know . . .”
“We’ll get to you,” the German snapped. “This . . .” he paused as he motioned between himself and the knight, “is a business transaction.” He then turned to his mage and priest and nodded his head. The mage cast a Stun spell, and the priest cast a healing spell. Wallace stood stock still as her health jumped to 240.
“Last night,” Drescher started a story strolling around Wallace and casting a look at Jace as he spoke, “I played poker with two women. We didn’t use money. After they lost a hand, they insisted on removing their clothes instantly. I told them, ‘It’s called Strip Poker, not Take-Off-Your-Clothes Poker.’ There is an art to it. The strip is half the fun. They didn’t get it. Well, they eventually got it, and afterward . . . well, my dire rats won’t need to eat again for quite a while.”
He stopped pacing to look Wallace in the face, her jaw clenched tightly against the spell and her eyes welling up in anticipation of what was to come. “Yes, I am paying you 10,000 gold for one million experience points. Points that I will have to split four ways. But I am also paying to kill you. And it will happen the way I want it to.”
“Drescher,” Jace started again.
“Shut up!” he shouted, “or you’re next.”
“I’ll give you 15.”
Everyone looked at Esther, reclining on the couch, still sipping her drink. She continued. “Wallace, I’ll give you fifteen thousand and make it quick.”
Drescher frowned at the woman. “No, you won’t. You can’t. All transactions in this town are forbidden unless they involve one of my people.”
{He’s right,} Gracie added. {You can’t even pick up dropped equipment from someone unless one of his people is involved.}
As Drescher stared down at Esther, he noticed her rapiers were belted on her waist. His eyes went to the spot she had stood before and saw the empty floor. Shaking his head, he turned to his mage before this debate could go further. “Pieter, pillar of fire.”
The mage nodded stoically and cast his spell. A circle of flame, one foot in radius, rose at the knight’s feet, and she screamed in pain through clenched teeth. Her health dropped by 40.
{There is only one reason to memorize a spell designed that way.} Jace could hear the disgust in Gracie’s voice.
Jace leaped from the couch. “She’s 14!”
“I told you to . . .” Drescher started, but then stopped when he realized what Jace said. “What did you say?”
“She’s a 14-year-old girl!”
Six seconds had passed, and a pulse of flamed surged in the circle again, producing another agonizing scream. Drescher turned in interest toward Wallace, his face inches from her, just outside the spell. “Is that true?”
Wallace could barely nod, but she expressed the truth in her eyes. “I’ll be damned,” Drescher said.
“You most certainly will be,” Jace replied. “End this, or I will. She did everything you wanted.”
Drescher wondered how Jace expected to “end this” without a weapon, be he saw Esther had both blades in her hands, her empty wine glass tossed aside, and her legs still coiled beneath her. She looked like a cat ready to pounce at her master’s request. Meanwhile, on the couch behind Drescher, Gweniffer had her dagger drawn now, her eyes never leaving Esther. He noticed and gently lowered his hand toward the woman before turning to Jace. “Call off your pet,” he said.
Before Jace could respond, Psycho suddenly appeared behind the main couch, holding his bow with an arrow strung. Jace had forgotten he was here. Somehow the ranger had been hiding in the shadows in this brightly lit room. “He’s right,” the ranger said. “That is enough.”
“Not you too,” Drescher sighed. “Lower your bow, or I’ll have to split the experience five ways.” Another fire pulse surged over the knight, lowering her health to 120 and sending another wave of pain through her. Esther looked ready to strike, Gwennifer cocked her hand back for a throw, and everyone heard the tightening sinews of Psycho’s bow.
“Fine!” Drescher shouted. “Everyone back down.” The boss gestured to Catrina, and the woman responded by flinging Diamond Etcher toward him. Drescher caught it with a sure grip and stabbed it into Wallace, dropping her health to nothing. He held the body up for a few seconds as the life left her eyes. “Same price next time,” he said, dropping her to the ground.
Drescher tossed the bloody weapon onto his couch and turned his back on the dead paladin. “Axil,” he said to his priest. “Please clean up this mess.”
Jace noticed Axilia’s level had increased to 22 with the influx of 250k experience.
{When you are in a scripted module, you have to leave before you can level up,} Gracie said. {But in this open environment, all you have to do is leave combat mode.}
Jace watched the woman take a few moments to complete her level change, and then with a flick of her fingers, the dead body, scorch marks, and bloodstains vanished. Even the bloody sword on the couch was once again pristine and sparkling. The spell disappeared, and everyone else in the room relaxed. Esther and Gweniffer sheathed their weapons, and Psycho lowered his. “Good,” Dresher said as he picked a drink off the end table and sat on his couch. “Now we can get serious.”