The Kings of Edonis: Omegaverse 4

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The Kings of Edonis: Omegaverse 4 Page 7

by G. R. Cooper


  “And you?”

  “I’m in this for the long haul. I mean, I don’t mind answering some questions. Like your first. I’ve been in the city for about a year.”

  That shocked him a little.

  She laughed.

  “Yeah, and I’m only level five. But don’t let that bother you too much. I’m focused on being a blacksmith. It’s notoriously hard to level. It takes a lot of resources, and resources cost money. I’ve done a lot of grunt work. Repairing armor. Sharpening swords. Things that don’t do squat to help you level, just in order to get the money to buy resources that I can then fail to pound into anything people want to buy,” she laughed. “And leveling my blacksmithing skill doesn’t do a lot to gain in my character level. The bulk of those points come from finishing quests. Smithing is a money making skill. Sort of,” she smiled ruefully, “at least, once you get up there. Imbuing should help with that, but I wasn’t even able to choose that as a skill until I’d reached level ten Blacksmith.”

  “And all the level one skills?”

  “Oh, those are really to help the blacksmithing. Every level that I get in Large Blades helps me to craft swords, and so forth,” she shrugged, “but I really need to do a little adventuring to raise those skills. I used some points as I leveled to get the initial skill, but it’d be stupid to add those points to the skills when I can raise them by using them.”

  “So you can’t get the skill just from doing it initially.”

  “Yeah, but it takes forever. I’d probably wind up chopping off my foot a dozen times trying to get to Large Blades level one,” she shook her head, “nope, I see that as a complete waste. At least with level one, you have some small skill that you can use. It’d probably take as long to work my way up to level one in the weapons skills as it would to get them from level one to level five, and since each weapon’s skill level adds to the blacksmithing level, it increases my ability to make those weapons. Even more than just raising my blacksmithing level would.”

  He nodded and sat silently, sipping his beer for a minute. He then opened his character sheet and added his two attribute points, bringing Personality and Fortune to one each. He wondered just what kind of a difference it would make. Would he be able to notice a change that small? This was a lot of information to take in all at once.

  Lauren seemed to read his mind.

  “I know, but don’t worry, you’ll eventually soak all of this information in.” She smiled, “Until then, have another beer. And another. You can get a nice, cool buzz here, but I haven’t heard of anyone being able to get stupidly, sloppy, blackout drunk.”

  “Challenge accepted,” laughed Wulfgar, raising his mug.

  “I was serious about you paying for the drinks,” laughed Lauren after they’d talked for several hours. She’d been right, the beer had never stopped flowing, but Wulfgar never got more than a pleasant buzz.

  “I’ve lost track,” he burped, “how many did we have?”

  She shook her head.

  “Doesn’t matter, both of us,” she reached down to scratch the dog, “and Bear can drink all day and night. For a copper.”

  “Hmm, that leaves me with eleven,” he pulled one coin out of his bag and dropped it to the table. “Do we tip?”

  “Nope!” she laughed, “that’s not a custom in this world.”

  “Hey, that reminds me. What do you call this world?”

  She laughed, “The world is just called the world. As far as I know, it doesn’t have a name. The specific areas within it, however, do.” She stood and stretched. “This city, for example, is Edonis.”

  “Edonis,” Wulfgar repeated.

  “Yup. And Clive’s realm is called Heim,” she scrunched her face, “I think that’s German for ‘home’.”

  Wulfgar nodded. His passing acquaintance with German was at least that comprehensive. He stood too.

  “That fits, I guess, since it’s the starting point for players, right?”

  “As far as I know, yep. I don’t know if anyone starts at any other location,” she paused, “hey, do you have a place to stay?”

  “Nope.”

  “Cool. I have a spare room you can crash in. Until you get on your feet here,” then she turned serious, “on one inflexible condition.”

  He smiled, “Which is?”

  “Bear stays with us.”

  “Deal,” Wulfgar laughed as they left the inn.

  They walked in companionable silence through a few twists and turns in the darkening streets. He felt that it would be months before he could begin to find his way around the maze of the city. Edonis. After a few minutes, she opened the door to a small wooden shop, butted up against the city wall. He looked to the gate, wondered who the guards on duty were, then shrugged and followed Lauren inside.

  “It’s not much,” she said, turning up a lantern and splashing the shop in light, “but it’s close to the northwest gate and I get a lot of foot traffic,” she smiled, pulling out an few heavy logs and bending before a large fireplace. She put the logs on and stoked them for a second, then stood again, “you know, for repairs and the like.”

  “It’s homey,” said Wulfgar.

  “It’ll do. Anyway,” she pointed to the right rear of the shop, “there’s a little room back there with a cot. It’s all yours! I’m going to head for bed,” she laughed, “I’ve become something of a morning person since I arrived.”

  Wulfgar smiled, “Good night, Lauren. And thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” she paused as she was halfway into her room. “Hey, Wulfgar.”

  He looked back.

  “It’s totally OK if you say no, and I’ll understand,” then she waved a hand and hurriedly said, “and it won’t make any difference on whether you can stay here or not.”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you mind if I did some adventuring with you,” she smiled, “just a little. To help raise my skills.”

  “I’d love it!”

  “Sweet! Thanks! Sleep tight. And you, sugar Bear!” She waved at them and entered her room.

  Wulfgar looked down at the dog, who was looking up at him. He smiled.

  “Go ahead.”

  Bear bounded away and pushed through Lauren’s door. Wulfgar entered his room and dropped onto the cot and almost immediately into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 3

  Wulfgar woke to Bear’s prods. As he sat, he once again felt relieved that he could rise refreshed from a few hours on a rickety cot. He scratched the dog underneath its chin, then stood and left the small room. The morning sunshine had lit the small shop enough for him to get a good look around it. Along one wall, near a workbench in the far, front corner of the room, was a part of the floor covered in gravel - as opposed to the planking that made up the rest of the room - within which was a forge, anvil and small tool bench. To his right, at the other back corner of the shop, Lauren was just emerging from her room.

  “Good morning!” she beamed, as she moved to the forge and began adding fuel to the lowering fire. She gave a bellows a few pumps and the intensity of the flame grew, then she stood stretching. After a moment, she moved to the front of the store and pulled the large, wooden rolling door to one side, opening the interior to the street beyond. A few of the people passing by nodded to her and she waved back happily, before turning back toward Wulfgar.

  “What’s up?” she asked, pulling a long leather apron over herself and tying it in the back.

  Wulfgar shook his head, “Nothing much. Had a great sleep, thanks. Just trying to figure out what I’m going to do today.”

  “Are you feeling lucky, what with that new Fortune and all?” she laughed.

  “Why?”

  “Because I am, and I was thinking about trying my hand at some imbuing. Want to help?”

  “Sure. How?”

  She moved toward the anvil, Wulfgar following, and took a short blade from a rack along the wall. It was a beautifully designed knife - short sword, really - that was about as long as Wulfgar’s
forearm. It was double-bladed and shone, highly polished. The cross-guard was brass, which fronted a smooth handle made of some black wood, held in place with what looked like brass rivets. One finger width down the handle was a second brass fitting that made a nook for the index finger. A pointed pommel finished the blade.

  “Nice,” he said admiringly, “did you make it?”

  “For sure! It’s my best work yet,” she moved to the forge and thrust the blade into the hot coals, then turned to Wulfgar, “I was doing a little research last night, and I think we can use your basic healing knowledge, from your Herb Lore, to imbue this blade with a nifty little trick. When you stab something with this, it will heal you of damage.”

  “That would be very, very cool,” said Wulfgar excitedly.

  She nodded, “Yup.” She raised one eyebrow, “But that assumes we can do it.” She pointed to one side of the anvil, “Move over there and make your poultice ingredients.”

  He pulled the small mortar and pestle from his sack, added the plant matter and, mirroring what he’d seen Heather do, spit into the small stone basin and began to grind the ingredients together. He watched as Lauren moved the blade, turning it within the coals.

  “Let me know when you’re ready,” she called over her shoulder. She pumped the bellows twice and looked appraisingly into the fire.

  Wulfgar studied the paste. As far as he could tell, it looked like the goop that Heather had spread on his arm.

  “Ready.”

  “OK. When I get the blade to the anvil, just slop your stuff onto the blade. It doesn’t have to be pretty,” then she pulled the knife out, gripping it by the handle - Wulfgar assumed that it hadn’t been in the flames long enough for the handle to get too hot to touch - and turned to the anvil.

  Moving quickly, she placed the blade on the anvil, raised a small, delicate looking hammer, then grunted, “Go!”

  Wulfgar ran his fingers through the mixture in the mortar, and slopped it out onto the blade. It hissed and a little smoke rose as Lauren brought the hammer down, the metal on metal creating a pleasant, high pitched ringing as she continued to rapidly hit along the blade.

  “Yes!” she exulted, looking up at Wulfgar happily.

  “It worked?”

  “Oh, no. We failed,” she laughed, “but I gained a level in both Blacksmithing and Imbuing.” She straightened, smiling and wiped the herb mixture off of the blade before turning it and presenting it, handle first, toward Wulfgar.

  “Here,” she said as Wulfgar took the handle, “it’s a gift! I’ll replace it in the future with one we successfully imbue,” she held out her right hand, with her small finger extended in a crook, “pinky swear!”

  He laughed, took her pinky in his, completing the ritual, as he looked at the blade. It was truly beautiful workmanship, and he told her so.

  “Thanks,” she smiled, replacing the hammer from its nook on her tool shelf, “I have to admit, I am happy with my progress with small blades.”

  Wulfgar stood, admiring his new blade. It really was, he thought, a work of art. Lauren watched him for a moment, then laughed.

  “Do you think you can find your way back to the store? The one where I got your clothes.”

  He nodded.

  She bounded up to him, smiling.

  “If you want,” she began, “we can do a little adventuring today. You know, if you feel like it.”

  Her enthusiasm was contagious. He laughed, “Sure, why not. I’ve actually got a quest already.”

  “Sweet! I’ve got a few things to take care of here, but if you wanted, you could head back to that shop and get whatever you think we’ll need,” she handed him a small bag that tinkled, “you know, a backpack, maybe some torches, and a scabbard for that sword,” she nodded toward the blade in his hand.

  He nodded, pocketed the coin purse, and left the shop, noting that Bear was still stretched out near the fire. He decided to take his time, to begin to acclimate to his new surroundings. The buildings looked like a mix of architectural schools. Some were vaguely Tudor, with exposed beams and white-washed plaster, some were plain, painted wood and a few were made from what looked like glazed mud brick. The variety gave the city a thrown together, but comfortably lived in look.

  The people, likewise, were a wide mix of mainly humans. They moved in a seemingly single orderly flow, up and down the hard packed streets, sometimes entering or exiting the stream through some random doorway. Wulfgar moved with the crowd until he reached the shop Lauren had taken him to the day before.

  He entered and looked about the store. It was much like Heather’s herb shop, but instead of rows of displays for plants, there was a little of everything. A mousy looking man emerged from a back room and looked Wulfgar up and down. A frown took over his face.

  “Lauren sent me,” Wulfgar smiled, “to get some supplies.”

  The man nodded, “I saw you with her.” He shrugged, “What can I get for you?”

  “I need some supplies,” Wulfgar repeated, “for some cave exploration. Backpacks, torches, and the like.”

  The man nodded and began moving through the store. He pulled two brown leather packs off of a shelf and started filling them with items from several shelves. Wulfgar walked to the rear of the store, which was laden with leather goods. He pulled his knife out of his belt, where he’d tucked it before leaving Lauren’s, and quickly found a scabbard that fit. It had even been dyed using the same black color that his outfit had been.

  “Allow me,” said the shopkeep, coming up behind Wulfgar. The man took Wulfgar’s belt off and slid the scabbard onto it. The belt loops were at an angle, and the handle of the blade was roughly parallel to the belt. The man cinched the belt around Wulfgar, just above his hips.

  “There,” said the man with an appraising look. He nodded, smiling in satisfaction.

  The scabbard was planted against his lower right back. Wulfgar reached back and his hand, almost naturally, found the handle. He pulled out and down and the blade slipped easily out of the scabbard. Wulfgar smiled - it was almost as fast as a cowboy’s quick-draw peacemaker holster. He pushed the blade behind him and easily found the opening, sliding the knife home once again. He nodded.

  “Perfect. Thanks.”

  “A suitable home for a fine blade. Is that one of Laur’ En’s?”

  Wulfgar nodded.

  “Looks like one of her best. I sell as many as she can make,” the man dropped the filled backpacks onto the counter, “and if you ever feel the need to sell that one, please see me.”

  Wulfgar smiled thinly. He wasn’t ever going to sell the blade and the man knew it, but he nodded anyway.

  Wulfgar tossed Lauren her coin purse. She missed the initial catch and her chest rang out as the bag bounced off her breastplate. She caught the purse on its rebound and smiled.

  “Did you get everything?”

  “I think so, “ he nodded, then “you’re loaded for bear, no pun intended,” he laughed as he scratched his dog’s neck.

  “You like?” she spun, arms wide, showing off her full suit of plate armor. Every part of her, except her head, was covered in blued steel. “It’s totally the latest fashion.” She snorted.

  “Did you make it?”

  “Mmm hmm,” she nodded, tightening the leather straps on her left shoulder piece. She did a deep knee bend then straightened, twisting her torso - ensuring a good fit. “It took forever, but I really like it. These things are far more comfortable than you’d expect.” She laughed, “Not that they’re comfortable, per se, but you can really move pretty well in them.” She walked to the front of the store and pulled the large door, rolling it sideways until it closed the shop from the street outside.

  “What’s the quest?” she asked as she pulled a hand and a half sword, plain but deadly looking, down from its perch where it had been an advertisement of both her skills and services. She pushed the blade into a scabbard that hung from her back, then cinched the leather belt, draped over her right shoulder and under her l
eft arm, tight, pulling the sword in close against her back. She then pulled on her backpack, which fit snugly against the center of her back.

  “We’re heading in to see the Rat King of Dark. As an embassy from the Rat King of Light.”

  “The what?” She looked at him, confused. He explained the quests he’d taken the day before, and the resulting mission on which they were about to embark.

  “Whoah. I had no idea there were a kingdoms of magic rats just underneath me.” She looked down warily at the floorboards of the shop, then moved to the small door in the front left corner of the shop.

  “Shall we?” she asked over her shoulder as she pushed through into the street. Wulfgar, trailed by Bear, followed her through into the bustling avenue. They talked as she led them through the streets and, once again, into the main square in front of the Clive’s keep.

  Wulfgar tapped the sword hanging from her back, “I’m not sure there’ll be enough room for you to wield that thing. At least not effectively.”

  She nodded. “You could be right, but worst case, I’ll just tank and poke them as best I can.” She made a thrusting motion with her right arm.

  “Tank?”

  She looked at him, raising one eyebrow.

  “Yeah, tank. You don’t know what that means?”

  “Nope.”

  “Heavy armor, like a tank. I go forward and take the punishment while the rest of the group, that is you, hit them with your specialties. Sneak up and back-stab to your heart’s content,” she laughed then held up her arm and pointed at her chest, “that’s what the armor is for.”

  “Ah, I see, I really didn’t play a lot of online games before the Omegaverse.” He shrugged, “I played some offline RPGs and such, so I know the basics, but never really got into the whole MMO thing.”

  She nodded, “I kinda got that. Anyway, I really want to use this sword to level with because this bastard, pun intended,” she grinned, “is great for weapon smiths.”

 

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