Letis, as it turned out, was a level 42 Paladin of Daenara. He was, as he put it, ‘done with the gods,’ however. When he left the service after his boon was bestowed upon him, he left in an incredible huff, pulling off every piece of sect-affiliated equipment he had, down to and including his tabard; and threw them onto the order’s floor before storming out. He may have burnt a few bridges.
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When the pair finally arrived at Derrum, it was early morning. The two posted guards were surprised to see them traveling on the roads unescorted, and offered a sort of respectful half salute. The city was only beginning to stir, but they were allowed entry with no trouble. Letis expressed his intent to procure a new pack animal, however the long walk together had fostered a sort of kinship between Dakkon and the man, so the two registered each other as friends and—providing both were ready at the same time—they would travel to Tian together. More quickly this time.
Near the entrance to the city, a group of merchants were having their wares looked over by guardsmen. Having had such an easy time walking into the city, Dakkon’s curiosity led him to discover that the guards were examining goods to account for unknown threats and hazardous materials which they could charge a higher price for before escorting a caravan to Correndin. It was, apparently, extremely rare for anyone to be on the roads without paying for a military escort to protect from the bandits who were thick in the surrounding countryside. Dakkon was also able to pick up on a sense of unrest from a few of the merchants who were having their goods examined extra closely.
In a fleeting moment of curiosity, Dakkon asked one of the troubled merchants why the military didn’t just clear out the bandit camps, to which the merchant—dressed in extravagant purple silks—scoffed and began to let off something that he had clearly had on his mind for some time, “What, and strangle their egg-laying goose? Caravan fees make them a mint! I wouldn’t be surprised if the bandits got a cut of it all!” The tirade earned the merchant stiff glares from a few of the soldiers and other merchants which caused the emboldened man to shrink back and grow meek. Dakkon took this as a good sign to continue seeing the sights.
From his map, he could see that the city of Derrum sprawled out in a shape vaguely reminiscent of a crescent moon, with one ‘end’ pointing vaguely northeast—where they had arrived—and the other vaguely northwest. The clothing adorning people on the streets here was a mishmash of real world cultures. Instead of several variations of old-world European dress and armor, as was common in Correndin, there were clear Asian influences as men and ladies alike strode about draped in colorful silks woven with varying degrees of intricacy. Each piece of silk clothing showed evidence of a great deal of time and skill poured into them by the hands of patient craftsmen. Foods sold in Derrum were as varied as the clothing. There was no everything-on-a-stick stall as Dakkon had hoped, but there were plenty of other inviting options.
“The hottest new food from Tian!” one vendor proclaimed. The words and scent of sizzling meat drew a crowd, even at this early hour. Dakkon waited a few minutes and paid an extortionate five gold pieces for what amounted to a skewer piercing an alternation of crisp, rosemary and pepper rubbed potatoes and thin, honey-crusted pieces of some undiscernible, pork-like meat—all drizzled with a thin line of rich, tan-colored sauce. It was delectable. Crunchy, peppery, sweet, and savory. Dakkon didn’t know if he could justify taste testing foods at that price, but he certainly wanted to try more.
Shortly after finishing his meal, Dakkon checked his character information to see if the food gave him any bonuses, as is a common convention in other games he’d played. Sure enough, when he examined a small icon of the food he had just eaten, he saw that his maximum endurance had been increased by 20 points for three hours. Dakkon made a note to look up whether food and drink bonuses stack with other meal bonuses. He doubted it, but if he could double his stats from stuffing his face, then he’d gladly become a master chef and competition eater.
As Dakkon wandered among the vendors, he noticed a trend. Vendors flocked over in droves from the nearby city of Tian to sell their wares here. Food, clothing, and even a traveling courtesan were ‘exotic’ glimpses from a nearby city. Dakkon wasn’t sure if Tian exalted commodities from this city, Derrum, as well, but a lack of any merchants advertising local delicacies caused him to doubt it. Merchants were clearly making a killing for what must have been less than a day’s worth of travel by foot. Was this the reason there was no wayside merchant capitalizing on the needs of travelers at the major crossroads? Was the opportunity to make money here so great? Dakkon didn’t know, but he was beginning to form an idea which was, without any doubt, foolish and half baked. He sold himself by relenting that it had some small hope of turning a profit for him and his new acquaintance. Plus, it should be fun.
Dakkon thought about Lettuce which, oddly enough, was sufficient to form a telepathic link, and thought the words, “Letis. I’ve got an idea.”
After inquiries, a bit of ground work, and an obstinate objection that the plan was, ‘Just about the dumbest thing he had ever heard of,’ and was ‘bound to fail,’ Dakkon managed to convince Letis to put his skills as an actor to the test. Dakkon wanted to invest in some intricate clothing to help sell the illusion, but was persuaded that the inevitability of failure meant that sinking any money in the ruse made about as much sense as betting on the only gimped racing horse. Dakkon wasn’t convinced, but he also wasn’t going to buy the clothes with his coin alone, so he relented on the matter.
C
HAPTER 16:
C
ONSEQUENCES
Around lunch time, Dakkon went to the finest dining establishment on the east side of town, complete with an outdoor seating area—a peculiarity in Derrum. The restaurant’s name was Appa’s Eastside, and it was known to most normal folk as ‘that place where the entitled youth gather.’ Prices at Appa’s were guaranteed to be extortionate and the latest dishes were prepared by chefs trained in Tian, which—Dakkon discovered—had a continent-spanning reputation for being at the pinnacle of culinary excellence. Tian supposedly had the finest chefs crafting the finest foods that money can buy—and supposedly some which not even money can procure for the most devout of enthusiasts.
Dakkon let his presence be known, seating himself in view of a wiry man with a balding pate, hungry eyes, and a tell-tale polished leather vest which, thanks to information gathered beforehand, identified him as Appa—owner of the establishment. As a serving girl approached him, Dakkon prepared his ruse with an internal mantra of, “Rude. Pompous. Entitled. Rude. Pompous. Entitled.” As the servant went to open her mouth, Dakkon fixed her with a snarl of a gaze. He felt the right side of his upper lip flare in indignation and he barked, “I’ll have your imperial leaf salad,” then he turned his head away from her as if all business had been concluded.
The serving girl was not unfamiliar with entitled guests, but she had never been placed in this situation before. She shuffled over to the owner for advice. Appa was about to send her back to apologize for not having something neither of them had heard of, when his eyes caught the two platinum coins casually resting on the table next to Dakkon, which he had pulled out of his coin purse while the owner and server conferred. The spindly man saw an opportunity and approached Dakkon’s table.
“Sir, I regret that I am unfamiliar with your dish of preference,” Appa began. “Our cook is the finest in the city. I am sure he will be able to make a dish meeting your expectations based on your description.”