The small leather pouch contained a mingle-mangle of different coins. Not just different metals, but a variety of forms and sizes. Added together, about one silver coin. But while those coins were enough for a half a year-long stay in the inn, it was barely enough for the most basic equipment.

With new boots and a leather armor to my name, my biggest priorities were a helmet and a decent battle ax. But given my light pouch, I could only check one item off my list. So I decided on a helmet to raise my survivability. A bad ax can still cause damage, but an arrow in my head would spell the end for me.

And with this belief I made my way towards Master Ansgot.

Gladford's market place had become less crowded over the last weeks. The farmers returned to their villages, greedy caravans left for other cities despite the danger, and only the peddlers and fearful merchants remained. And with most of the adolescent men joining the sword maiden’s army, the number of aimless pedestrians experienced a similar drop.

But a familiar face remained.

Beady little eyes hidden behind medium-length, black hair. The glint in them was enough to make any passerby hold on to their purse. Like a small animal cowering in front of its predator. One look in his eyes and you knew your money was in danger.

But this unpleasant feeling was covered by his gaudy clothes. Flamboyant colors, too wide a cut, a ridiculous pair of gloves, and pretentious earrings made him stand out in any group. He looked less like a cunning merchant and more like a clown, selling his old costumes.

"It's you again," he said with a smile. "Looking for another present?"

A present? That might be fitting. I would only need one silver for my helmet, so I had some change for a small present for Rhoslyn. Nothing intrusive, but with no quests to farm for affection points such a small gesture of attention might create a favorable impression. Hence I stopped and looked once more through his goods on the two spacious linen sheets.

"Another hair-band?"

"Hmm? Oh, no. I need something with a bit more style," I answered absent-minded while searching through a row of glistening earrings. "Earrings might be nice."

"Ho? So more direct this time," he asked before presenting a small box. "Those are fine earrings. Polished amber in iron. They will fit her hair color."

I looked at them. Oblong red stones, formed like a tear drop, with a dim iron frame. It was a decent craft, but it still looked cheap. Not appropriate to impress her.

"Uhm... I don't think it fits her hair color." I tried to decline them tactfully. "The iron would clash with her silver hair."

"Silver hair," he asked, looking confused. "I thought the young miss had brown hair? We even picked a red hair band for her. The earrings will match."

"Oh. It's not for her," I answered with a grimace. "We... went our own ways."

"I see, I see. What a shame. And already a new one," the merchant answered after a moment of awkward silence. "So. How many coins?"

"Twenty... no, thirty bronze." Thirty bronze coins seemed fine. Enough for a fine piece and I would still have 90 coins left for my helmet. "And I need something that goes with silver hair."

"Silver hair?" He sighed. "So another one..."

"Another one," I asked. But he had turned around, rummaging through different boxes behind him.

"Thirty coins, silver hair. Hmm... something like this, maybe. And if we go higher, there's also this one. And these are my best products, worthy a beloved maiden," he said, arranging a multitude of small boxes in front of me, opening them one after another. "I also have some pearls from Sjælland. Black pearls make for a delightful contrast. Though they are slightly more expensive. But nothing much. Two silver for a pair of earrings."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Too much," I answered, looking through the pieces in front of me. "50 bronze coins at most."

"50 coins, 50 coins. So not these ones." He collected a few boxes. "But with that we can also go for a delicate necklace. Might be less disturbing for a warrior."

"A warrior? How..."

"There aren't many girls with silver hair around," the merchant interrupted with a knowing look. "In fact, Gladford only houses one. And you aren't the only recruit trying to woo her. So we need something special if you want to impress her. Something unique."

And with that he turned towards another chest and piled more boxes in front of me. Necklaces, rings, earrings, bracelets. Pearls, gems, amber, silk. A never-ending tide of trinkets. Polished stones, real jewelry, precious metals and their look-alike. There was no way I could discern any of these differences. So I just sat there, overwhelmed, and examined one piece after another. Until a necklace with a brownish polished stone entered my view.

"This one. I want this one," I declared without a second thought. "How much is this one?”

"This one? Oh! You have an expert’s eyes. But this one is one silver coin."

"One silver coin? But it's a polished stone."

"No, no, no. It's not any polished stone. I bought this stone from another merchant in Haithabu. It comes all the way from the southern continent. Transported over the endless waters. It's a precious stone traded from a tribe of warriors. They call it a warrior stone and only the strongest ones may wear it. They are so strong they seem invincible to their enemies. Very fitting for your maiden. And it might just be one of a kind on the continent. So one silver coin."

Warrior stone? Invincible warriors? I had to suppress my laughter. What a load of crap. I recognized this piece of equipment from the game and none of that was true. None of the strong players would even consider using it. But given my circumstances it was really was rather fitting. So I had to buy it.

"I don't have that much. 50 bronze coins. Those stories are all made up, anyway."

"You think I'll half my prices because you spout nonsense? 95 coins or I'll sell it to the next admirer."

"60 coins. And I'll also buy the next present here."

"Next present? You don't have enough money for this one and already talk about the next?" He snorted. "90 coins. And I'll add your love to today's prayer."

"No merchant would pray for love. 70 coins."

"Don't stress your luck, kid. 90 coins," he said and closed the box. "Pay it or pick another one."

"85 coins," I pressed through my teeth. I understood he just played his game. Only a handful Gladford’s residents didn’t live from day to day. Both farmers and lowly craftsman could at most save up a few coins for bad times. So there shouldn't be that many people who could pay one silver coin for a piece of jewelry, let alone wanted to buy one. He wanted that sale as much as I did. But while I needed this piece, he could feign ignorance. So what else could I do?

"85 coins, it is." The merchant smiled. "And don't forget to make your next purchase here."

I sighed and counted the coins in his hand. With the majority of my money gone, today’s plans had to change as well. No way I could afford defensive equipment with decent quality. But at least I got the piece I wanted. This should pay off in the long run.

"Always a pleasure." He laughed. "Remember me when you pick your next target."

What an asshole, talking as if he already knew the outcome of my love life.

"So, how's your bird doing?" I changed the topic in frustration. No reason to get rough with some stranger. "He still looks alive to me."

Three weeks since my last visit, and that colorful macaw still sat there, watching us haggle. So it was nothing but a hoax to affect the customer’s spending. Another version of the >I have to sell these or my children can't eat< scam.

"Don't jinx him." He sighed and tickled the macaw through the grid. "He's doing worse by the day."

“Still looks fine to me.”

“Only because you don't care. If you mind your surroundings, you'll see these slight changes. He started to lose feathers,” the merchant explained, a grimace of grief on his face. “He might seem fine to an outsider, but I can see him suffer. And I can't change it.“

"Hmm?" Why did he get all emotional?

"Loneliness is such a tricky thing. You can feel lonely even while surrounded by people. You can love someone and still be alone. And sometimes we trick ourselves. As if our heads knew better than our hearts. Those farmers all get drunk at night, because they are lonely in their own homes. But they call it happiness while they eye the girl next door." He laughed. "Birds are stupid. They can't trick themselves. Instead, he feels alone even while I'm grooming him. Stupid little thing."

And like that, the merchant continued on and on. About loneliness, about happiness, about the dream he threw away, about humans and their desire. An endless tirade. I just stood there and nodded, gazing at the jewelry in my hand. I wouldn't stay lonely, that much was obvious to me.

And so I excused myself and made my way to Master Ansgot.

Thirty five bronze coins weren't enough for a decent helmet, but thanks to my connection with Thea I was able to buy a second-hand one. A few dents and a bit of rust. But enough to keep me safe for the foreseeable future.