“What shall I call you?” asked Dakkon of the horse. “You’re a beautiful beast, but I wouldn’t call you beauty, being so obviously a male.” Dakkon figured talking to the horse in a level tone would help both parties relax. It didn’t exactly matter what he said, so he’d pitch a few names to hear the sound of them. “You’re dark, but Shadow is a bit cliché. Twilight is incredibly lame; Dark One is too melodramatic. I feel like it would be a waste to give you a bland name and be done with it. How do you feel about… Slighttrot?” The beast was unimpressed or indifferent to his first suggestion, and so was Dakkon. He pulled out another carrot and fed it to his tall, strong mount which swished its tail in delight. “Perhaps… Swifthoof? You look like a brave animal, how about Gallant? No? Hmmmm…” Dakkon paused to think. He wanted his horse’s name to be something he wouldn’t be embarrassed to shout. “How about Nightshade?” At this, the horse whinnied and Dakkon took it as a sign. “Nightshade it is then.” He patted the animal on its neck and fed it another carrot.
Now Dakkon had his horse and saddle, but had no clue how to saddle a horse properly. Since doing it wrong might result in a rather unpleasant ride, he decided to ask for assistance. Dakkon approached one of the three men who had delivered animals to the village. “Can you show me how to properly saddle a horse? I’ll give you five silver for your trouble.” The man was pleased with the offer and obliged. Dakkon found it odd how little the animal seemed to mind having a metal bit in its mouth—provided to him by his hired help. After a few minutes of work, he was the proud owner of a saddled and surprisingly pleased stallion. Next, he’d have to learn how to mount and ride.
Dakkon placed his foot in the saddle’s black and silver stirrup hanging to Nightshade’s side and used it to pull himself atop the steed. The animal was not alarmed; it had been ridden. Dakkon gave a relieved sigh. He leaned forward to feed Nightshade another carrot for its troubles and then took the bridle in his hands. “Hyah!” Dakkon said, anticipating the burst of speed that never came.
“You whack it with the reins you use to steer,” the man who had helped him saddle the horse said, “or nudge ‘em with the back of your heels. Careful, though, stallions can be a might wild.”
“Ah, thanks,” Dakkon said, then lifted his feet outwards and let his heels fall into the sides of the horse. Nightshade took off down the only road. By the time horse and rider had reached the turn to Correndin, Dakkon already had the hang of it. Riding a horse came with surprising ease. Perhaps it was due to game mechanics, his 50 points in agility, or the animal itself, but Dakkon found riding a horse about as simple as sitting on a couch. It felt comfortable to him. “Riding a horse is simple,” Dakkon thought.
The two blazed their way down the trail towards the capital city, and in only the time it took to halfway get there, Dakkon had already changed his mind. It seemed that every bit of him hurt. His knees were sore, his thighs stretched in new and uncomfortable ways, his back ached, his shoulders were tense, and his neck was stiff. “Isn’t this the type of thing that’s supposed to be left out of a game?” Dakkon thought. Shortly before reaching his destination a system message appeared on his screen. Once he had come to a full stop, he read the message.
[Trait unlocked! You’re beginning to get on top of things. You have gained the Trait: Rider]
Dakkon glanced at the skill’s specifics:
|-Rider: Gained from riding a mount. Every rank in Rider reduces the fatigue of riding by 2%. Current effect: 2%.
He hopped off Nightshade, fed the proud animal yet another carrot, and led it to the communal watering troughs which were abundant near the edge of the city. Dakkon sat beside his horse and looked at his rations. His dried meat had spoiled. “So, food spoils even if you’re dead, huh?”
Simply sitting while Nightshade drank from the trough completely soothed his aches, no doubt a benefit of life in a virtual world. Dakkon stood and walked his mount to a stable where a boy no older than 13 years approached him at the gate, after rising from his bucket-chair. “Two copper to take your horse, sir?” the boy asked him.
Dakkon eyed the boy with suspicion. Although handing over his horse for a time was what he had come to do, the situation felt too informal to set his mind at ease. Dakkon shook his head, and walked up to a nearby guard to alleviate his concerns. “Who’s in charge of the stables?” he asked. “It’s not that boy, is it?”
The guard chuckled. “No. Any man who’d give his horse to a stranger so easily deserves to lose it. All stable masters and hands in Correndin are marked with a bronze badge bearing the symbol of King Raemun.”
“Much obliged,” Dakkon said, strolling back towards the stables.
“Changed your mind, mister?” the boy asked him with a confident smile.
“Go on then, show me your badge,” requested Dakkon.
The boy’s smile faded—his expression soured. “Oh, bugger off then, you bastard,” said the boy.
“How many times do you think they’ll let me strike a horse thief?” Dakkon asked with a devious grin. “I’ve got a whip in my bag, and the guard seemed keen to watch.” The boy’s eyes grew worried and he turned to run.
A deeply tanned man walked around from the side of the stable wearing a little bronze badge with a circle in the top left that looked to be gouged by three sharp claws. The claw marks ran down, diagonally from the circle appearing like rays of light from the sun. Believing himself to have found the correct stable master, Dakkon addressed the man, “How much to keep my horse for a day?”
“We’ll stable your mount for a silver a day, and feed it for 20 copper. We can groom it, if you’d like, for another silver,” said the olive-skinned man.
“Very well,” Dakkon said. “Feed and groom him. Make sure you take good care of my saddle, too. I’m particularly fond of it.”
The heavily tanned man nodded, “It’s a fine saddle.”
Dakkon, having thought the same thing verbatim, was pleased. He handed his reigns to the stable master and turned to walk the streets of Correndin.
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Though not in desperate need of food, Dakkon’s first destination would have to be his favorite place in the city, the “Everything on a stick” stand. As he walked, he stopped to haggle with merchants for maps, but lacking a standard of price or quality to compare them with, Dakkon realized he’d need to visit the cartographer’s guild before making an overly hasty purchase.
Once at the food stand, Dakkon bought one sweet, crunchy chicken on a stick that caught the attention of his nose as much as his eye. He pleased his palate for a mere copper piece, then tipped the cook a silver for her trouble. With over 145 gold pieces converting to 14,500 silver, as every 100 copper amounted to one silver—and every 100 silver made one gold, it was a gesture he could afford. With a ‘well fed’ bonus affecting his regeneration, Dakkon would use the time to train. He sat on a nearby bench and began his slow journey towards thermomantic mastery.
Dakkon filled his mind with thoughts of hot and cold landscapes, alternating between them one after the other, over and over in the public square. In just over 15 minutes, needing no time to stop and regenerate mana, he gained level seven in Thermoregulate. After another 15 minutes, he achieved thermomancer level four, refilling his mana points. Though he had only recently begun, he was already tired of the exercises. Another quarter-hour increased his skill to eight, but the following 15 minutes simply left him drained of mana. At halfway to an increase for both skill and class levels, he took some time to stretch his legs
Dakkon walked over to the food stand for rib meat on a stick and drank water from his canteen as he ran through the numbers of the daunting task he’d given himself. It takes about an hour to level up in thermomancy, currently, and Thermoregulate took about half that amount of time. Under perfect conditions, without accounting for any downtime, that meant a bare minimum of 26 hours of constant mental tedium to achieve the mastery he needed. It sounded horrible, but doable. It also failed to take into account that each level grew progressively more difficult to achieve. Still, if it only took 30 hours in total to become a master level thermomancer, then Dakkon would have to suffer that hardship in order to open up an extra class slot through his edgemaster class skill.