It wasn’t fair. Dakkon knew that, but he was still going to make off with nearly double the reward he had been expecting. There was no need to split hairs. It was a veritable fortune to a player of his level, anyway. “Very well,” he acquiesced.
“I’d go and fetch the money, just myself, but I’m only one old man. Gold isn’t so light that I can toss it around all willy-nilly,” Barrcus said, turning to leave even before he had finished speaking.
“I’ll be making my way out of the village today,” Dakkon said to the woman he had helped save. Then, as a courteous way to draw the conversation to a close he added, “If you find yourself in a sticky situation and think that I can help, reach out to me.” He wasn’t sure what he could do, but without her he never would have gotten his reward.
“I will then, master Dakkon,” she said with a reverent bow that made the hairs on the back of Dakkon’s neck stand attentive. He was far from used to this sort of deference in the real world.
[You have pledged protection of the NPC Mary Greel. If she meets her untimely demise, it will have a negative impact on the way you are received.]
Dakkon was unsure of the commitment he had unwittingly made, but at least he’d learned her name—even if it was in an incredibly awkward and roundabout way. He mulled over what repercussions this could hold for him while he followed the slow moving Barrcus back to his house. After three minutes of walking, the two men entered Barrcus’s house, and the village elder brought Dakkon to a sitting area.
Dakkon sat, waiting, as Barrcus ambled into the adjacent room and brought back bag after weighty bag until eight lay in a pile at his feet. The old man was panting, “We don’t… have anything… so fancy as… platinum… in a place… like this.” With a hand on his hip and a raised hand, he took a second to catch his breath before continuing. “We don’t normally have near this much gold, neither. You’re gonna have to take it as is,” Barrcus said.
Dakkon picked up one of the bags as though the only heft to it was the fabric itself. He realized that, in Chronicle, coins must not have much weight for players to facilitate trade. Dakkon poured the contents of the sack into a coin purse at his waist and found that the size remained the same. It dawned on him that bank robbery, in a world where neither weight nor size were considerations, must be an incredibly lucrative trade, but dismissed the thought when he remembered the words of the very first NPC he ever talked to, threatening to throw him in jail to rot. In a game where currency is transferrable to the real world with the support of banking conglomerates, there would certainly be swift and uncomfortable retribution for stealing money.
“Let’s head back to the well, boy,” said the village elder. “The livestock are hours overdue and you’ll get yours from them.” Barrcus moved to leave without waiting for a response.
Although Dakkon made the trek back to the center of town, he only did so because that was the way he needed to head to reach the road back to the capital city, Correndin. Dakkon didn’t want livestock. He wouldn’t know what to do with a chicken or cow following him, short of selling them undervalue at the first opportunity that presented itself. This line of thought echoed through his consciousness over and again until, when nearing the village center, he saw the herd of animals. Among them, there was a fine black horse. Dakkon believed it to be fine, at least, but truth be told he was less adequate to assume such things than any amateur. He had never ridden a horse aside from in a game, and certainly never with full immersion.
“I’ll take the horse,” Dakkon said to Barrcus. “And… I want you to give a sheep of each gender to Mary,” he added as an afterthought. Barrcus nodded with a smile, clearly expecting worse damage to his new herd than he’d received.
“Is there someone who makes saddles in town?” asked Dakkon of Barrcus.
“A saddler? No. I suppose Ged might have an extra saddle or two at the inn. Folks sometimes need a new one on the road.”
With a nod, Dakkon walked back into the common room of the inn, strode up to the table in front of the proprietor—who only a few days ago had used Dakkon’s want for information to sell him an extortionately priced meal—and slapped his hand on the table with a loud *thwap,* garnering the attention of the distracted barkeep. “Ged!” Dakkon exclaimed. “Barrcus told me you had a few saddles, and that you’d give me the best of them for a steal.” Ged looked dubious. “He said it was your duty on account of me saving the village and all—” Dakkon waited only long enough for Ged to consider a reply before adding, “and there’s the fact that I just bought animals to replace the ones you lost.”
At that, Ged seemed to relent. After a moment’s contemplation and a nod, he walked into the back room and emerged a minute later with what appeared to Dakkon to be a very fine saddle. Dakkon didn’t know a good saddle from a bad one, but suspected that the dark leather and shiny silver trim indicated he had found a winner. Plus, it matched his horse.
“Now, what sort of price is fitting in this sort of situation?” Unable to forget the massive leg of mutton he was unwittingly sold, Dakkon exhorted with his most calm and gentle grin.
“Ah,” Ged began, uncomfortable. “I’ll… let it go for 15 gold. That’s what it cost me and I got it under rather fortunate circumstances.”
The saddle seemed expensive, but with a full purse of gold, and proud of the performance he had given, Dakkon smiled, “You’ve got a deal, Ged.” He slid the 15 coins across the table in three stacks of five, and picked up his new saddle for inspection.
|Name: Forerunner’s Saddle
|Item Type: Saddle - Leather
|Durability: 120/120
|Armor Rating: 30
|Attributes: Mount speed +10%, 50% slower mount exhaustion
|Description: Forerunners’ Saddles were once assigned to imperial messengers of the Valin empire. These messengers were tasked with warning about imminent attacks to villages that were too small to have a local mage who could send and receive magical communications.
Judging by the stats alone, it must have been a very rare saddle. Dakkon was stunned. “Hell,” Dakkon thought, “at 30 armor and a speed increase, I’d wear it if I could.” Not only was it preposterous to have assumed he could get an item this good for only 15 gold, but this one sparked his curiosity. Per its description, the saddle was used by riders to warn villages of impending attacks during the reign of the Valin empire. Only recently, he’d heard on ChronCast that the Valin empire had been a total unification of the Validesh continent, resulting in its name. His gut told him that messengers wouldn’t need such a saddle for internal conflicts. It leant some credibility to the stories that Validesh had been invaded, after all. The workings of ancient empires would have to wait for Dakkon, however. He had travelling to do.
Dakkon bought a small bag of carrots for an additional two copper pieces, then he strutted out the door and walked up to his newly acquired, beautiful, black horse. He bowed to the stallion, and it half-nodded in response. After a moment to take in the temperament of the animal, he gently placed a hand upon its neck and offered it a carrot. The horse seemed pleased enough with his offering and received a pat on the neck in addition to the treat. While Dakkon didn’t know much about horses, he had seen them spooked in movies. He wanted to avoid angering the animal and decided to play it safe by taking his time with the large equine. He showed off the saddle to his new steed. Instead of trying to saddle it immediately, he’d let the animal grow accustomed to his presence while he thought up a fitting name.