I didn’t have time to discuss this with the guys, but there was still time before the girl left the sandbox anyway. Manny shook my hand for a long time. The brigadier was touched that they’d be taking a share. Those kinds of offers were too rare in a time when all the virtual corporations were squeezing the workers for all they were worth, and charging them even for their tools.
Toward the end of the conversation, when they’d already decided to log out to discuss it all in their own circle, I remembered something else.
“Trixie, you like mining ore, right?”
“Nah,” the dwarf shook his head.
“Then do you want to be a gardener instead?”
Manny and Gyula looked at me doubtfully. I explained why we needed a gardener, showed them the Seed of the Flesh-Eating Tree Protector and waited for an answer in silence.
“So, the fruit, bark and leaves of this tree are really valuable?” Manny asked thoughtfully. “And it’ll help us defend the fort too… Well, no question about it! Agree to it, Trixie!”
“How’s he going to change his profession here?” Gyula asked pointedly.
“I can send him to Darant before he chooses the new faction. I’ll jump there too, disguised as one of you. What do you say, Trixie?”
The dwarf blushed, feeling himself the center of attention of such respected individuals. To become a gardener, he’d need to abandon his mining profession, although fortunately he hadn’t had time to level it up much anyway. On the other hand, the clan gardener would have a stable, high paycheck… That seemed to occur to him too. The dwarf smiled, gave me two thumbs up and spoke in pride:
“Trixie gonna be a gardener! Trixie gonna plant trees! Trixie gonna dig soil...!
Chapter 15. A Stroll Through Darant
THE HIGH SUN burned so hot that even the shade of the white stone buildings didn’t help. The surface of the streets was planned and polished to a mirror sheen by magic, blinding me and making me squint. The red-hot air stung my nostrils and throat. Uncle Nick once took me and my dad to a sauna. I remember feeling more comfortable there. If I’d been in my undead body, I’d probably have dried out into a mummy, but I’d turned into Manny and become a human. Unfortunately, the heat was the least of my problems.
After the quiet and deserted fort, Darant was full of colorful and eclectic crowds and chaos whose mysterious rhythm was impossible to match for an outsider.
Trixie and I barely dodged out of the way of a rushing cavalcade of top players, one of whom shouted as he passed by in a rumbling gnomish chopper.
“Out of the damn road, inwinova!”
I quickly moved onto the sidewalk under a hail of abuse, pulling the dwarf behind me. Trixie felt very uncomfortable and withdrew his head into his shoulders. It occurred to me that without me, he’d either get lost here or get into trouble. Especially with two thousand gold in his pocket for changing his profession and getting tuition and tools. A quarter of that money would probably have been enough, but I preferred to give him a buffer. What had he seen, except the roofs of anthill apartment buildings in Cali Bottom? And when would Trixie ever be in the Commonwealth capital again? Exactly, he was here for the first and probably the last time.
Taking him by the hand like a child, I dragged him to the nearest tavern. Firstly, he needed a place to stop for the night if he couldn’t get everything done that day, and secondly… There were too many people on the streets to take on anyone else’s guise without drawing attention, so I figured renting a room with a view of the street from the window wasn’t a bad idea.
Considering the distance, going to the desert on foot was foolish, so I decided to first get to level forty, the minimum requirement for using a mount. I’d learn to ride one in Darant, find out the cost of common mounts and choose something basic. Maybe a riding donkey or ram like the ones the dwarfs loved to use. I decided I wouldn’t bind the Legendary Ghost Wolf to myself just yet. Who knew, I might need money and I wouldn’t be able to sell the mount if it was already soulbound. Apart from that, I wanted to try out my plague skills in combat.
To do that, I’d need an instance around fifteen to twenty levels above mine — the maximum for fast leveling while still being realistically achievable. Going into a harder dungeon made no sense: I’d constantly miss, and my plague reservoir wouldn’t last long enough to kill the bosses.
I found a suitable dungeon in the Lake District, six hundred miles from Darant. Far away, but the main thing was that the instance didn’t belong to any clans. If I went to an instance like that solo… at the minimum it would invite surprise and questions I didn’t need.
Pushing my way through the crowd by the auction house, we passed the trade district and reached the three-story Lion’s Pride, a big tavern where the highest city officials condescended to eat. The gilded statue of the king of beasts decorating the entrance moved; waved its tail, turned its head and opened its mouth in a soundless roar. Sorry to burst your bubble, Mufasa, but in Dis you aren’t even in the top ten strongest beasts, I thought. Monty eats guys like you in heaps. Even my Iggy probably wouldn’t be scared of you…
A smooth-shaven and muscular viking NPC in wine-red parade armor stood at the entrance, halberd in hand. He measured us up with an indifferent gaze but said nothing when I reached for the handle of the huge oak door. He didn’t even think about helping. What was he even doing there? A level hundred viking was no use as a guard; the average player level had long since exceeded two hundred.
We entered the semi-dark of the hall. Ahead of us was the reception desk, to the left was a restaurant filled with voices, to the right — the hallway to the stairs leading to the guest rooms. A heavy bronze chandelier hung from the ceiling, and massive statues towered by the walls, showing all the races of the Commonwealth. The floor was covered in a rug woven of gleaming fibers that reflected all the colors of the rainbow.
Trixie froze like one of those statues at the sight of such luxury. He seemed paralyzed. I barely held back a grin; to me it seemed completely tasteless. The simple but cozy Bubbling Flagon was much more up my street.
The player woman fulfilling the role of receptionist didn’t pay us any attention at all.
“Hello!” I said, walking toward her confidently. “We need a room, please.”
“We don’t serve workers,” she said coldly.
“I have money,” I took out a handful of gold and showed it to the woman.
She didn’t even look at it.
“Bjorg!” she shouted. The door opened and the viking appeared. “Throw these two out at once! Why did you let them in anyway?”
“You said I should let humans and elves in without discrimination, Helga.”
“Humans, Bjorg, humans! Not smelly miners!”
Instead of waiting for the guard to use force, I quickly moved to the exit. As offensive as it was, the tavern was a private business and its staff had the right to decide who to serve and who not to. But this felt too much like the real world. It felt nothing like Snowstorm’s advertising campaigns about everyone being able to feel like a king or a hero in Dis.
I dragged the still-frozen Trixie outside, opened my map and started looking for a more basic tavern close to the gardeners’ guild, realizing that leaving the dwarf here alone would be like abandoning a village kid in New York. He’d survive, but his money probably wouldn’t. And Trixie had the mental age of an eight-year-old.
“Hey, good folk,” I heard behind my back. The viking waddled toward us and whispered slyly: “You need food or a place to stay?”
“Both, honored Bjorg,” I said.
“Then head to the Jolly Bear inn. My brother Bjorn stands guard there. Tell him I sent you. He’ll show you in.”
The viking explained the route, advising us not to use any coaches. “They’ll take you to the cleaners,” he explained. “That’s the capital for you, Nether take it!”
A marker appeared for the Jolly Bear on the map, but although Bjorg was an NPC, there was no quest. Just the little AI that w
as the viking Bjorg, feeling the need to help some poor visitors to Darant. And maybe earn a little for the trouble.
It was a long way on foot to the tavern, but it led through the same part of the city that held the gardener’s guild. Thinking for a moment, we decided to move under our own steam, meaning I decided so as not to cause suspicion, and Trixie gladly agreed. He was all in his curiosity, spinning his jug-eared head with his mouth agape, expressing childlike wonder at what he saw.
“Look, Scyth! Look!” the dwarf took me by the hand and jabbed his finger toward a barbarian on a mammoth. He didn’t have the words. “Wooow!”
“Yeah, Trixie, wow! It’s a mammoth. And we should go around it so it doesn’t squash us…”
We walked through twenty-two districts that way, and it felt like I’d seen one long display case of everything you could buy in Dis. Truth be told, the sight impressed me no less than Trixie.
We stopped for a long time by street musicians — some played solo and some in groups, but thanks to magic, none of them played over each other. Invisible barriers around each musician removed all extraneous noise. Then I couldn’t resist buying some Eternal Ice Cream for myself and the dwarf. I got chocolate and Trixie got one that randomly changes flavor. It wasn’t actually all that eternal; it lasted just one day, but all that day.
The long walk of fame also had moving statues of the greatest heroes of the Commonwealth, and then we wandered to Worship Square, surrounded by three dozen temples of the most respected gods of Disgardium.
Toward midday we decided to stop to eat. There was a huge variety of restaurants and cafes to choose from in Darant, but some delicious smells from a mobile snack stand dragged us there by our noses. The fat mustached cook, who personally made all his food on an open fire, booked us a Fiery Hot Dog, covered it in tomato and garlic sauce and Ursai mustard and wrapped it up in some magic paper that steadily disappeared as you ate the hot dog. We had elvish fizz to drink. Our lunch cost us nine gold in total. We’d have to spend a year completing social quests for that money in Tristad…
There were a few more street food stands next to the hot dog stand, in which I saw dishes I could have made myself, like Apple Cider, Roast Goose Wings and Beef in Dragonbreath Sauce. Remembering the late chef at the Bubbling Flagon, Uncle Arno, I promised myself not to neglect my cooking skill and to work on it as soon as I got some spare time.
Hot dog devoured, Trixie bounced in glee and pointed at the stand. “Wings! Wings!” The roast goose wings gave off a breathtaking aroma.
Sighing, I bought him a whole basket full. He tried one, his eyes widened, and he licked his lips. I pulled one out to try too, and then didn’t even notice myself reaching for another. Trixie cast an agitated glare my way but said nothing. Nether, but those wings were delicious! Hmm, Raw Goose Wings, the main ingredient of the dish, weren’t that expensive…
“You know what?” I said to the dwarf, chuckling. “I know how to make these wings myself! So, don’t worry, this isn’t the last time you’ll eat them.”
The thought of renewing my Cooking activities got even stronger when we walked past a cookware store. I stood there a moment studying the display cases and couldn’t help but go in. At first, I wanted to buy everything, and my inventory was big enough. They had it all! Frying pans, saucepans, pots, portable ovens and stoves, knives and all kinds of accessories with generous cooking bonuses.
In the end I bought a Universal Mobile Pot (+5% chance to invent a new dish), a Cook’s Hat and a Chef’s Apron (in total, +50 to cooking skill and +15% cooking speed). I also bought some new cooking recipes, all kinds of herbs and spices, some balsamic vinegar and a special kind of oil for frying. My Kaizen Chef Knife, given to me by Oliver at the Cookery Duel, was still waiting for its day in the kitchen.
We’d almost reached the gardener’s guild, but Trixie grabbed me by the arm.
“Scyth…” he said, licking his ice cream cone. “I want to stay and live here. Can I?”
What was I supposed to say? That this city would chew him up and spit him out? That he wouldn’t last three days here before he got kicked out? Those were the terms for visitors. If you wanted to live there, you had to be useful to the city, make some contacts and pay your dues. At least earn the respect of the people. Otherwise, three days — then you got a Disturber of the Peace debuff and hello, Darant City Watch! Those guys wouldn’t just throw you out of the capital, they’d also drop your reputation so low that if you broke just a couple of other rules, you wouldn’t be able to go back to the city at all.
I grew up as an only child, but I had enough experience talking to my parents’ friends’ children.
“You know, Trixie,” I said, coming to a decision. “You can’t stay and live here because we need you in Kharinza. I need you. Without your help, the fort will be defenseless and ugly. This place is full of strangers, but Kharinza is home, with all your friends, right? But you know what? We won’t turn you into an undead, alright? That way you can come here sometimes — with me or with one of the other guys.”
At first his face twisted from tears he could barely hold back, but it smoothed out with every sentence, and by the end it held a smile. Some would have called Trixie’s face ugly — it was pockmarked, his teeth were yellow and crooked — but it was sincere. I clapped the dwarf on the shoulder.
“Now let’s go do what we came here to do.”
Trixie nodded and started mumbling a silly song about dancing clouds, a grasshopper playing a violin and something about streams. I remembered meeting him for the first time on an anthill roof in Cali Bottom half a year ago. He seemed so angry and threatening to me then. The memory made my heart feel lighter. I realized that I was starting to grow up and think of more than just myself.
Surrendering to my whims, I dragged Trixie into the nearest tailor shop and bought him some nice clothes — without special bonuses, but with big pluses to charisma. At least people might treat him in a little better in Dis that way.
Then we finally reached the guild. The dwarf slowed down at every window for the rest of our journey, looking at his reflection. He liked what he saw. He drew his shoulders back and walked with me further until he stopped again to get another look at his impeccable outfit.
I watched him with a smile, waited patiently and thought that when all this was over, I’d need to finish Patrick’s quest after all and ‘make a man of him,’ or whatever it said in the quest…
* * *
After Trixie retrained as a gardener, we spent a little time in the guild store picking out decorations for the fort. Everything, even the trees, was sold in seed form, and the range was huge. I downloaded the catalog and flipped through it with interest, noting a few defensive plants like Fiery Wasabi, Windblower Clover and Explosive Grapes.
Flesh-eating Sunflowers and Healing Aloe Vera also caught my eye. The first shot from afar, piercing its enemy with seeds that immediately began to grow. The aloe vera’s name speaks for itself. It was clear that these plants weren’t particularly effective in the beginning, but their level grew as they aged, and looking after them with special gardener skills and fertilizer sped up their growth. We bought those too.
We also couldn’t resist buying a rare set of clothes with impressive bonuses to stats and gardening. The dwarf outright refused to put the set on, saying it was work gear, and he was there to relax.
You couldn’t call Trixie smart, but he was no idiot either. And he wasn’t naive. The school of life in Cali Bottom had at least taught him not to trust strangers and to see them first and foremost as a danger. That was why I confidently entrusted him with our purchases, worth in excess of five thousand gold in total.
Expensive, but the Special Section of the store had even crazier prices with a bunch of zeroes! All our purchases were green, uncommon quality. We added some ordinary vegetable and berry cultures to the pile, along with some fruit trees. The climate was favorable on Kharinza, and in a week or two, I thought, the whole fort would be gratefully eating ap
ples, pears, pineapples, bananas and mangos. Melons, watermelons and pumpkins also existed in this world, and we bought their seeds too, so Trixie would have enough work for a long time to come. And Aunt Stephanie would be so pleased! She’d have plenty to add some variety to the Pig and Whistle’s menu.
We put what we’d bought into the special, multi-functional Gardener’s Bag. Not an epic, but like any crafting container, it provided almost one-hundred-percent security. Almost, because there was still a chance to lose a certain proportion of the contents. That was to provide motivation for those that would never play without PvP opportunities.
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