To her disappointment, instead of heading for the inn Darcy went to a smithy at the other side of the road. Horses were grazing inside a corral and a few of them raised their heads to whinny a greeting as Darcy approached the blacksmith. He was short with thick arms and chest squeezed within a leather apron and he was bent over an anvil knocking a horseshoe with a hammer until he noticed them approaching. Raising his head and wiping a hand across his sweltering brow, he watched with suspicious eye until his gaze landed on Darcy. Like Mrs. Farnell, his face brightened into a broad smile, one that revealed missing teeth.
“Sister Korra!” He greeted setting aside the horseshoe and hammer. Fetching up a dirty cloth, he began wiping his hands clean as he approached Darcy. “What can I do you for?”
Darcy’s lips tighten for a moment before speaking, “Did I help you with anything yesterday?”
“Of course.” The man bobbed his head in an eager nod. “My new tools would have been lost if you hadn’t protected the delivery wagon from bandits.”
Darcy nodded as if she were expecting this. “And afterward you sold me a new sword and shield.”
The man’s eyebrows rose in mirth and confusion. “Ah, no, Sister, I have nothing like that for sell. You’ll find nothing sharper here than a kitchen knife, I’m afraid.” He waved a hand at a table laden with metal farming tools and horseshoes. “I’ve never handled a sword in my life.”
Darcy’s face relaxed into puzzlement, then tighten into deep thought again. “So you never sold any weapons before? Ever?”
“If you count cooking knives as weapons,” the man said as he fixed Darcy with a worried look which was slowly deepening into suspicion. “Are you having fun with me, Sister?”
“Uh, no, I’m not…” Darcy stumbled over her words, shaken from her train of thought.
Oh no, Sally thought. He’s going to think Darcy has either lost her mind or making fun of him. Either way, I don’t think we’re going to get any freshly baked bread from him.
Then a thought bloomed into an idea that burned fierce enough to burn away any misgivings and doubt. Sally stepped forward, taking Darcy gently by the arm and smiled at the blacksmith. “I’m sorry, but the Sister suffered a serious blow to the head earlier, and she’s been confused ever since. We really should get her to the inn so that she can recover in comfort.”
The man’s face revealed a flux of emotions. First, it was a flutter of anger, then dawning understanding and concern for Darcy. “I see. Yes, she should have a lie down until her wits return. I can call for the miller’s wife to tend to her.”
“Please, don’t bother, she’s alright, just a touch bit confused is all. C’mon Dar—Sister Korra.” Sally lea Darcy away by the arm while giving the blacksmith a wave. Once they were well out of hearing, she whispered, “What are you doing? You almost pissed that guy off.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t want to do that,” Darcy whispered back. “His backstory mentioned his bad temper.” Then she fixed Sally with a quizzical look. “When did you become a fast talker? You played him like a fiddle.”
“I…I don’t know. I knew he was getting agitated and you were fumbling your words,” Sally shrugged. “I just knew I had to step in and say something and the words just came to me.”
A wide grin stretched across Darcy’s face. “Your awesome Charisma. That’s what it is. Just like with everything else.”
“Can we please get inside somewhere? People have been staring at us,” Mina interjected, glancing around furtively. “And it’s getting dark.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” Darcy said suddenly taken by energy. With long strides, she led them to the front of the inn and pushed open the door with the confidence of someone returning home from an errand.
There was an immediate hush as they entered. It was the early evening hours, and many of the farmers and villagers were having a drink before returning home. Sally lowered her eyes, refusing to make any eye contact with them and Mina must have felt the same, as she looked at the ceiling as if something very interesting was floating over their heads. It was Darcy who chose a table isolated from the other customers and, just like when she was outside in the streets, she stared around in wonder.
The inn’s interior was roomy with a roaring fire crackling in a massive fireplace with rows of tables sitting in its light. A barmaid walked among the tables bringing drinks and food and casually chatting and flirting with the men, while a heavyset man stood behind the bar swabbing out a mug while talking with a customer tottering on a stool.
Sally didn’t realize how tired she was until she sat down. Everything they had endured since the Incident had been done on an empty stomach and had drained all her energy reserves. Sharing the same condition, Mina covered her mouth and gave a long jaw-popping yawn. “God, I could sleep and never wake up.”
“Something’s not right about this,” Darcy said, pushing back her hood. Long dark hair fell loose from its confines and down her shoulders. It was quite different from Darcy’s usual bob of curls.
“I think that became apparent when we found ourselves trapped in a game,” Sally said dryly.
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Darcy said, rolling her eyes. “In the game, the blacksmith sold low-level weapons. He remembers me doing his quest, but he doesn’t remember selling me a weapon?”
Sally considered it for a moment. “Blacksmiths in any games I’ve played usually upgrade or sell weapons and armor.”
“It’s not like that in real medieval times,” Mina said, shifting her greataxe off her back and propping it against the table. Rolling her shoulders in relief, she continued, “Village blacksmiths made farm equipment and horseshoes. If you wanted weapons and armor, you needed a blacksmith that worked with the army or at a castle.”
“That is true,” Darcy said, touching her chin in a thoughtful gesture. “How do you know that?”
“I watched a short commentary on medieval life for some credit in history class,” said Mina.
“So everything is as I remember it from before,” Darcy said in a contemplative manner. “Except for the blacksmith…”
“Sister Korra, hello, good to have you back!” A barmaid appeared at their table, startling them. She was a pretty girl with a splash of freckles across her nose and hair drawn back in a burgundy braid. “What can I get for you?”
“Uh, three ales and three bowls of stew,” Darcy said offhandedly.
“It’ll be ready in a pip,” the girl assured them before dashing away.
Once she was gone, Sally leaned towards Darcy and whispered, “Why do they keep calling you Sister Korra?”
“That’s the name of the Cleric I made yesterday,” Darcy said, touching her chestplate. “‘Sister Korra’ did low level quests to get to level three. They don’t know either of you because you only just made your characters today.”
Mina thoughtfully rubbed her chin. “So if the game people remember everything you did yesterday then someone or something was watching you play.”
Darcy shrugged. “Or maybe they accessed my game save file. It would have a record of all the quests I’ve completed.”
“That makes sense,” Sally said, glancing around the inn. There were a few patrons staring openly at them. Uncomfortable, she looked away and kept her eyes on the table. “What I don’t understand is why it’s only us three? If Shadow’s Deep is so popular, then where are the other players?”
Darcy tapped a metal finger on the tabletop. “That’s a good question. There should be dozens of first level characters running around the village, but it’s just us three. Why only us?”
“We share a time zone,” Mina pointed out. “Maybe it’s whomever happened to be on eastern time whenever this ‘thing’ happened.”
“There would still be a lot of players,” Darcy said. “There’s got to be another reason.”
“Here we are,” the girl said, bringing a large tray laden with three full mugs and three steaming bowls. She laid out the meals with expert precision while balanci
ng the tray on an open palm. “It’ll be ten silver, Sister.”
Darcy opened a pouch tied to her belt and produced a gold coin. “Here, take this.”
The girl took the coin with an appreciative smile and left them to their meals. Sally looked down at her stew where bits of meat and vegetables swam together in a thick broth. Hunger refused to let her think about the unsanitary habits of the middle ages, and she dug in. Darcy pulled the bread out of her backpack and broke it into several pieces on the cloth and let it sit in the middle for them to share. The bread dipped in the broth was divine and Sally, careless about table manners, bent over her bowl and ate with gusto.
Mina regarded the stew suspiciously. “Didn’t they have anything else other than stew?”
“I don’t know,” Darcy quipped. “Why didn’t you ask for something else instead of sitting there like a bump on my ass?”
Mina’s face darkened, but she snatched up her spoon and began eating, shovelling spoonfuls of stew into her mouth. After chewing a mouthful, she stated, “This could use some more salt.”
Though Sally preferred sweet tea or soda with a meal, the ale was better than she expected. It had a fruity and nutty taste that was pleasant. With food in her stomach, Sally found she was able to think clearly.
“We need to try to find other players,” she said, pushing back her bowl. “I find it hard to believe that we’re the only ones this is happening to. I bet if we asked around, the villagers might have stories of other players helping them or we can at least put the word out somehow that we’re looking for ‘other travellers.’”
Darcy nodded. “That’s a good idea. We’ll sleep here tonight and start asking around first thing in the morning.”
Mina pointed at something in front of her face. “What does this mean?”
“I can’t see what you’re pointing at,” Darcy said gently, but Sally could hear the struggle in her voice to remain amiable.
“This bar right at the top of the character screen,” Mina said.
Summoning her character screen, Sally look at the top to see what Mina was talking about. “Wow…is that an…experience bar?”
It certainly was an experience bar, about less than a quarter full of glittery gold. Above the gold was the number 60 and at the other end was 300.
“I’m at sixty of three hundred experience points,” Sally muttered in wonder. “Where did the sixty points come from?”
“You were automatically awarded fifty points for completing the Lair of Tears,” Darcy said.
“Shouldn’t it be per combat?” Sally asked. “We fought the rats, skeletons, and kobolds.”
“It’s like that outside of a dungeon, but inside, you only get XP once you reach the end.” Darcy studied her character screen. “I didn’t get any because I already finished it once before. Nope, I’m still at two-hundred and thirty of two thousand seven hundred, so no XP for ‘Sister Korra.’”
“What happens when you fill the bar?” Mina asked.
Darcy raised an eyebrow. “You level up! You get more health, skill points, unlock new skills…c’mon, this is gaming one-o-one.”
“I know at least that much about games!” Mina said, her cheeks turning pink. “I mean would the same happen to us in this world?”
“I would think so,” Darcy replied. “So far this world has been playing by the game’s rules so I wouldn’t expect anything different, unless something happens that proves otherwise.”
With their meals finished, fatigued set in and each of them began yawning in turn. After everything that had happened, Sally was looking forward to a warm bed, though she’d rather it was her own bed in the really world.
Finally, the serving girl reappeared at their table. “Anything else? Pie perhaps?”
“Pie sounds great, but we need rooms. How much for three?”
The girl’s smile faltered at the edges. “Three rooms?”
“Yeah, one for each of us,” Darcy said expectantly.
“Oh.” The girl’s smile faded a bit more. “I…I don’t think we have three rooms available.”
“That’s fine, we can bunk up in one or two,” Darcy said, opening her coin pouch.
The girl’s smile was gone to be replaced with an apologetic grimace. “We can’t…oh drat it all, you’ll need to speak with Pete.”
“Smiley Pete?” Darcy said, craning her head towards the big man behind the bar.
“No, he’s Sensible Pete, the Innkeeper,” the girl said regretfully and quickly collected their bowls and mugs.
“Is something wrong?” Mina asked.
“You’ll have to speak with Pete,” the girl said without looking at them. She dashed away before they could ask any more questions.
“That was weird,” Sally commented. “Why are you calling the innkeeper Smiley?”
“That’s just a nickname the fans gave him because in-game he has this stupid grin on his face,” Darcy said as she glanced across the room towards the innkeeper who looked less than pleased to be doing his job, not really earning the Smiley Pete nickname.
Darcy rose from her chair. “I’m going to find out what’s going on about the rooms.”
Once Darcy left, Sally glanced around the tavern and noticed a lot of hostile eyes fixed on their table. Men were craning their heads to look at them, and even one of the barmaids was turning her head in their direction as she passed between tables collecting empty mugs and plates. Sally now had the sinking suspicion that the question about getting rooms wasn’t about whether they had any, but whether they would rent them any rooms.
“Shit,” Sally whispered, wondering what the hell they were going to do if they couldn’t get rooms. Wasn’t Sister Korra respected in this town?
Sally noticed Mina staring over her head and twisted around in her seat to see what the taller woman was looking at. Darcy was standing at the bar talking with the innkeeper with her coin pouch in hand. The innkeeper shook his head, and Darcy reached into her pouch and held up several gold coins to prove they could afford the rooms. Again, the innkeeper shook his head and said something that made Darcy’s brows furrow. Then Smiley Pete pointed at their table and said some more words and Darcy’s eyes widened and then narrowed; she seemed infuriated.
“Looks like trouble,” Mina murmured in trepidation.
“Maybe I should go over there…” Sally said, knowing that once Darcy got pissed, insults and curse words would spew from her mouth like water from a broken fountain.
“No, stay here.” Mina touched her arm before she could stand. “He might think you’re trying to gang up on him if you join in.”
Sally had to admit to herself that she preferred not to get involved. She wasn’t good around people, and hated any conflict or confrontation outside of a video game, movie, or TV show.
The innkeeper jabbed a finger at the door with a few loud words that drew the attention of the men nearest the bar. Darcy shoved her coin pouch onto her belt and stalked back to their table. She dropped into her seat seething, her eyes blazing with indignation.
“I’d ask for a damn drink, but I don’t want to put another cent in that asshole’s pocket,” Darcy growled.
“What’s wrong? What happened over there?” Mina asked, looking towards the bar where the man was wiping down the table as if someone had spat on it. “And what’s his problem with us?”
“He doesn’t have a problem with you or with me,” Darcy said dryly. “He has a problem with Sally.”
Sally’s blue eyes went wide. “What did I do?”
“Nothing,” Darcy sighed, her fury extinguishing into remorse. “Except you chose half-elf for your race.” She leaned back in her chair, looking exhausted. “It’s my fault. I forgot this area of the game has a racism problem against non-humans. The only reason he let you come in here and eat with us was that you were with me, but he says giving you a room would be crossing a line. His words were, “nobody is gonna sleep in a bed after a bloody pointy.”
Mina frowned, confused. “So they refu
se service if you pick a non-human character in the game?”
Darcy looked very tired, and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “They’d still sell you stuff and let you sleep in the inn, but they would make rude remarks like, ‘don’t get dirt on the linens, dwarf’ or ‘better watch how you swing that, elf, or you’ll break your twig arms,’ stuff like that. I guess in this world they can and will refuse you service if they don’t like you.” Then she gave a nasty glare at the innkeeper who resumed his distasteful task of cleaning mugs. “Except he was supposed to use the lines, ‘All with good coin are welcomed here,’ the kindest man in the village, but in this life, he’s an asshole.”
Sally sat in silence, completely taken aback. She thought back to when they first arrived at the village, the long stares from the villagers, the odd look from Mrs. Farnell, and how they were being gawked at by the other inn’s patrons. It wasn’t the whole group they had been staring at; it had been her. She was so stunned; she didn’t know what to think or feel. Sally had always found the presence of others uncomfortable, but she had never before been rejected outright.
“So what do we do now?” Mina said, with a note of panic in her voice. “We can’t sleep out in the woods.”
“Stinky Pete,” Darcy said, “and I will forever refer to Smiley Pete as Stinky Pete from this day hence, said he wouldn’t mind her sleeping in the stable. I told him that if she has to sleep in the stable, then all three of us were going to sleep in the stable.”
Mina opened her mouth to protest, but must have seen something in Sally’s face, because instead of a complaint, she muttered, “Sounds good to me. I bet the beds have lice anyway.”
Chapter 4
Naomi
Sally tried not to let her feelings be hurt, telling herself over and over as they walked to the stables behind the inn that it didn’t matter. This dumb world was just some dumb game her dumb sister talked her into playing. And the dumb world had dumb villagers and an asshole innkeeper. God, she hoped the placed burned down around Stinky Pete’s head.
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