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When Quill woke up that morning, it was with apprehension and a lingering desire to just roll over and go back to sleep. He blinked and rolled over to get more comfortable and found himself looking at the other bed in the room and Jane’s bundled form. Oh, right; they’d gotten a shared room because it was cheaper.
Because he’d lost half of their money.
Because he was weak.
There was just no desire to get up and start the day. What was the point, after all? He wasn’t going to gain a bunch of levels. Rolling onto his stomach, he buried his face in his elbow. He knew he was being negative and defeatist. But that didn’t change the truth. He couldn’t change his base stats.
He heard Jane waking up and could guess from the sounds that she was pulling her shirt on while under the blanket because he was there. Then she quietly left, likely to visit the inn’s washroom, which was just an outhouse on the outer wall with a jug of cold water to wash your hands with after. He’d overheard others talking about more expensive inns having plumbing and even magical features. Must be nice. Yeah, he was definitely feeling bitter.
Jane returned and had evidently decided today was a cheerful kind of day. She jumped onto his bed, which didn’t bounce because it was stuffed with straw. “Up, up, lazy boy. We have adventuring to do!”
Not wanting to be a downer in front of her, he rose and got himself ready. Then the two went down to the inn’s very small, three-table dining room for a breakfast of pancakes. Quill had to admit they were pretty great. As a devoted pancake lover, this actually did lift his spirits, and he was glad he’d come down. When the server, in a cute green-and-white maid-like outfit, put the plates down on their table, he looked up and asked, “Do you have any peanut butter? Maple syrup?”
“Oh! Just a moment.” She swept into the kitchen and returned with three toppings. “Here you are. Cinnamon hazelnut spread, as well as salted caramel. And here’s a lovely orange cream sauce.” She beamed at them and departed.
Jane gave him a look. “Peanut butter and maple syrup?”
He paused in reaching for the hazelnut. “Uh, yeah. What do you put on your pancakes?”
“Butter.”
“Only?”
“Yeah.”
“Ew.”
She rolled her eyes.
He ignored her unrefined tastes. What could possibly be better than peanut butter and maple syrup on pancakes? He could eat that for days. In fact, he had. But this cinnamon hazelnut? Curious. He enjoyed trying new things. He covered half a pancake, which was very fluffy, and tried a bite. “Ohmah frickin wow.”
Jane, who had only put butter on hers, lifted her head in interest. “What did you put on it?”
He pointed at the hazelnut, which was rich and smooth, and the hint of cinnamon swirling within was perfect. Wolfing down the rest of that half, he reached for the salted caramel next. Surely that would be too much, too sweet. He stuck a piece of pancake with his fork and put it in his mouth. His tastebuds exploded. He couldn’t even chew.
Jane certainly noticed his reaction. She immediately reached for the caramel. “Ok, screw it. I want some of that.” She tried a bite. And melted. “Thish ish soooo goood.” She swallowed. “In the real world it would be so many calories. But here? Who cares! I can sin all I want.”
There had been two pancakes on his plate to start with. He was down to one. He cut it in half and saved one half for whichever of the three toppings was best. So far, an impossible choice. He put the pale orange cream with darker orange specks from candied peel on one half. He took a bite. His eyes closed, and he savoured the sweet but tangy delight. “I’m never leaving this table.” He stuffed another piece in his mouth.
“No fair! I want to try that one, too!” Jane hungrily reached for it. But she was running out of pancakes to cover.
Quill didn’t have it in him to decide which was best. He cut the last half of a pancake into three pieces and used all three toppings again. “We’re staying here every night.”
“Mmph hmm.” Jane was as wide-eyed with surprised pleasure as he was. “I’ve never had pancakes like this before. I can’t believe I wasted so many opportunities with butter!”
Breakfast was so good that for a while, Quill didn’t think about his future at all. The moment was that good.
A trio of NPC men sat at the table beside them, also breakfasting. In the small room, it was easy to hear each other’s conversation.
One of the men, some kind of stone mason, from the look of his clothes, grunted with a dour expression as he paused eating his oatmeal. “Have you heard? Hunters and rangers have been spotting orcs out in the woods yonder east. Party or more, they say. Big one.”
A second man, wearing a nicely tailored shirt and pants and with a bag of cloth next to his chair, grew worried. “A war party, you mean?”
The mason shrugged. “Too many for one person alone to fight is all I hear. Could be trouble soon.”
The third man, wearing a watch uniform, frowned. “Surely not. We’re at peace now. Longest peace since they came through the Blasted Portal1.”
“Aye, so what are a bunch of them doing here on our continent, huh?” The mason raised a brow. “You haven’t heard nothin’, then?”
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
The frowning watchman shook his head before the three men grew silent and returned to their food.
Quill took note of their words and shared an interested look with Jane.
Jane eventually got back into practical mode. She pushed her bare plate away and slapped her palms on the table. “Right. Let’s make a plan for today. I want us to be productive.”
He eyed her but didn’t say anything. He could guess that she was trying to be extra enthusiastic on purpose, likely to turn things around after the past sour couple of days.
“First, we need new bags. I was thinking, what about a basket with straps and a lid? It would hold a lot, depending on the size of the basket. But it would be rigid, maybe a pain to carry? Or we could get a bunch of pelts, and I could sew bags. They would be stronger than the ones we had before, so we could carry heavier stuff.” She looked at him.
He shrugged. “‘Kay.”
She seemed to be waiting for more, but when that was all he said, she continued. “But if we’re going hunting for pelts, then we also both need new weapons. I’ve only got my knife.”
He nodded.
Undeterred by his lacklustre responses, she finished her food. “Ready to go shopping?” She smiled and led him out of the inn.
They went out for weapons first, finding a nearby smith with a few racks of cheap killing instruments. Cheap was a relative term; they were actually a little expensive when you didn’t have much money to spend, and the purchases took the bulk of their remaining funds.
Jane remained positive despite the lighter purse. “We haven’t had many decent drops, other than you-know-what, and we know how much of a difference a good weapon makes. It’s a good investment.”
Quill only grunted.
They picked up a waterskin for Quill and some food: salami, bread, cheese, and pears.
Quill stared at the few silvers and coppers in Jane’s hand as they purchased the food.
She saw his look and frowned. “It’s fine! We’ll make more.”
On the way out of the city into Green Hills, Jane kept up a string of light chatter. Quill couldn’t find it in him to give much more than one or two-word contributions. He didn’t seem to have any energy or motivation in him. However, there was one thing he couldn’t hold back. “You, uh, haven’t gotten your class yet?”
“No.” She seemed conflicted. “I’ve been busy.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine. It’s… I still can’t decide what to be, you know? The more I think about it, the more being a mage seems to be the best choice. But how do you choose a class without ever having experienced it and don’t know how useful it is or if it suits you? It’s like when we’re in high school, and they want us to pick our careers. How do you want to spend the rest of your life? Please choose now. Except you have no experience with any of these careers; you’re making the choice blind, you know?” She looked at him.
He just nodded.
“There’s just so much pressure. And you don’t get a chance to change classes, I assume. So few games allow that, which is totally unrealistic. I mean, if I start out a fighter and want to become a mage, I should be able to learn magic and do it. Maybe some of my old skills get rusty and aren’t as high-level anymore; that’s fine. But I should be able to keep some experience and change. Why are we locked into only one career?”
“Yeah. It sucks.”
She seemed a little put out by his lame responses, and he felt guilty but also felt like anything he had to say would just be stupid.
In Green Hills, the sun was shining, and the world was bright, warm, and full of possibilities. Also, danger.
He reminded his partner, “Don’t forget. We can get PvPed by our own faction here.”
“Right. We’d better keep an eye out — oh!”
“Hmm?”
“I forgot! Grr.” She fretted and looked back toward the gate. “I have access to the bank now cuz I’m level five. I should drop off the thing.”
Quill didn’t want to risk losing the best thing that had happened to them while adventuring, so the two of them trekked all the way back into the city and searched around for the bank.
The bank was, like in the real world, an expensive-looking edifice made of large beige stone blocks. Plenty of armoured guards with swords and pikes stood guard. Inside, the place was crowded with players lined up at tellers and milling around. Many had arms laden with various items; Jane was the only one with a bag, and it was getting looks as people noticed her.
The bank was staffed with dozens of short gnomes in pointy red hats. Some had fluffy white beards; others had apple-red cheeks and noses. It was as if someone had swiped a city’s worth of garden gnomes and brought them to life in here. Except these were all about a meter tall.
Jane squealed with delight. “They’re so cute!” Then she slapped her hands over her mouth, embarrassed.
A fellow female adventurer in leather armour with a bow slung across her back overheard. “I know, right? Don’t you want to pick one up and hug it to bits? Or take it adventuring with you? Like a mini-me companion?”
A passing gnome, huffing as it carried a stack of papers, halted under the woman’s nose. He pointed a short, chubby finger at her and glared. “Kidnapping is a Class A felony offence, young lady. Keep your hands to yourself.”
Now it was the ranger’s turn to look embarrassed. “Erp. Sorry.”
The gnome carried on a couple of steps, then stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Free hugs are permitted only during official hugging hours, from three to four weekday afternoons.” He marched on.
The two women turned to each other and squealed.
Jane bounced up and down. “I’m so coming back here in the afternoon.”
The woman gasped. “It can’t be real! But me, too!”
Quill…had no particular interest in gnome hugging. Or squealing.
When they finally reached the front of the line, after a long wait, the gnome teller sat behind a counter, and a bronze box rested on the floor next to him, about the size of a luggage trunk. He skillfully swished a wand over the box, drawing out Jane’s name in light. Then the top of the box slid aside like the top of a crypt might.
Jane deposited her entire backpack, not wanting to reveal the item inside to any players who might be watching. She only pocked the last of their coins and held onto their provisions. The moment the unique item was safely stored away, she sagged with relief. “Wow. That is a huge weight off. I’ve been freaking out ever since we got it.”
He nodded, understanding. It was bad enough when he’d gotten robbed. If they’d lost that…
Male
36
QUILL KRAU
Class NONE, Level 1
STR
1
STATUS
DEX
3
Currently wishing he had money in the bank.
HEA
7
SKILLS
INT
2
WIS
17
ITEMS
STA
14
CHA
11
Female
26
JANE EULA
Class NONE, Level 5
STR
6
STATUS
DEX
11
Currently trying not to kidnap a super-cute gnome.
HEA
19
SKILLS
INT
18
WIS
18
ITEMS
STA
2
Gilded Armour of the Nature Goddess (unique); knife
CHA
5