“Thank you,” I whispered.
She nodded, retreating from my gaze. What wasn’t she willing to share?
I noticed my surroundings. Most everyone was on their feet and applauding our group; applauding me.
My shame deepened; my palms grew sweatier.
Glancing at the rest of my group, everyone wore a sober look. They were no doubt proud, but reliving the danger of the night put them on edge.
I really hadn’t considered how it would affect them and they had graciously let me recover without burdening me with their own feelings. That would have to change.
The number 2 spot began playing and everyone retook their seats.
This one showed a familiar chaos of players being torn apart by a large club-wielding hobgoblin. Multiple groups scrambled to get in any shot they could land.
Two girls bravely rushed the hobgoblin from the front with nothing but swords.
My stomach dropped.
As the hobgoblin pulled back to swing, a man desperately launched his spear from thirty meters behind it. Hitting the boss monster in the back of the head, miraculously it sunk deep into the base of its skull.
Falling forward, the girls were nearly crushed.
They pole-vaulted, their blades in the falling beast, stabbing and pushing themselves out of harm’s way.
As if a python had climbed into my gut and decided to tie itself in a knot, I found myself unable to breathe. The number one highlight of the night had begun.
A man faced a hobgoblin alone wielding a spear in either hand; his dirt brown shirt was torn from the collar to his gut. He was thicker than Kline or Oliver, though only average in height. With his mouth upturned to one side, he smirked at the challenge before him. Chewme.
The large club of the hobgoblin crashed towards his face. Ducking under it, he skipped from one foot to the next. He countered with a fierce thrust into the ribs of the monster when its side opened up from its swing. The boss monster sent a backhanded whack with the club. He danced back and found the creature’s hip with his other hand.
This hobgoblin didn’t have its name above its head. Was it not shown because he wasn’t in our city or was it something else?
Time after time he countered the monster that had proven to be the end of so many players. He picked the creature apart, slowly draining its life.
The hobgoblin attacked in a rage with an overhand slam of his club, just missing him, and he wedged one spear point into the creature’s throat. Dancing back as the club fell from the large creature’s hands, he then he lunged forward with all his weight. Two-handing his remaining spear, the man impaled the hobgoblin through the chest, lodging it in.
He pounded his fist into his other hand as he watched the creature die on the ground before him. The grin never left his face.
Then Mia was back, mouth wide open.
An eruption of hoots came from the tavern in response.
I gave a heavy sigh.
“That was some nice work,” Kline said.
The rest of the group seemed thoroughly entertained. It’s not like I should be surprised. Chewme, you’re way out in front right now. I will catch you.
Everyone was too quiet.
“His name is Timur,” I said, giving them Chewme’s real name. He had said he was leaving his handle behind.
Immediately the rest of the group’s eyes were on me.
I answered their unasked question. “He’s a friend of mine. We are from the same guild in the game Gravel.”
We had both ended up in the top ten highlights of the first day in Freedom, but the circumstances were far different. Out of all the people in the top ten, my actions were actually among the least skilled. All I could boast was good timing. If I faced Timur now, I would lose badly. There was no way he would let me go without sparring. I wanted to face him, but not yet.
Timur was in a different village and the show didn’t give any indication of where it was. I hadn’t leveled up enough to be able to private message him or contact him in any way. I wasn’t the physical specimen that he was, but through skill and strategy, I had always competed with him before. Finding a way would be more difficult this time without skills and spells, but that just made it more of a challenge.
Well, the rest of the guild would be delighted. With our exploits, the guild would become known. Fame meant possible full guild sponsorship. It was a dream we all shared. We had spent hours and hours of tedious work becoming the best we could. Never before had we been so close to making it come true.
The rest of Mia’s Gamer Haven lasted about fifteen minutes. I admit I was lost in thought for the rest of it.
“So, are you guys ready to go?” I asked.
“He speaks!” Kline said. “Victoria and I were talking to you and you went off someplace.”
“Sorry. I’m good.”
Victoria looked at me, concerned.
“You sure you are up to it? It’s already the afternoon. Maybe we should take the day off?”
“Yeah, it's fine, man, if you need a break,” Kline added.
“No. No breaks. There’s no time.”
“He’s right,” Peter insisted. “It’s very likely that the goblins will attack again tonight and we need to be ready for them.”
It was a good point that I hadn’t considered. I was more concerned that if I didn’t get out and fight I might never work up the nerve to do it again.
When no one spoke up, he nodded.
“Victoria. Can you take Lucius shopping? Show him a few of the shops we found earlier. Everyone make sure you have an extra spear for tonight. Two extras if you can afford it.”
“You want to face the hobgoblin as the group of spearmen did?” Oliver asked.
“Yes. Or at least borrow their strategy. There’s a thing or two I think we can improve on.”
“I’ll get some extra food,” Kline replied.
“Not too much extra is necessary. Oliver is already carrying enough for dinner and breakfast for all of us.”
“I’ll grab more alcohol instead then. Just in case.”
Chapter 9 – Ambushed by Questions?
As I followed Victoria out of the tavern, Oliver grabbed my arm. Towering over me, he stared forward speaking low where only I could hear. “She’s taken, in case you were interested.”
He returned to his seat.
Peter met my eye, nodding.
At first, I took what was said as an accusation, but catching up with Victoria, I realized I was the one being unfair. They were warning me in the case I was planning on making a fool of myself. What they didn’t know is that that was the furthest thing from my mind.
The merchant stalls were now packed with items that players had been selling. Junk. And lots of it. The bronze swords, hatchets, and knives of low quality were now so plentiful that they were practically giving them away. Low-quality iron was almost the same. High-end bronze and decent iron had become the new in-demand gear.
Leather was almost the only armor that could be found, but it varied much more in variety and quality than the weapons did. It could be a simple shirt or an elaborate, stud woven, multi-layered, water hardened work of art. The lack of bronze and other metal armors was because no one was rich enough to afford them yet. Few bronze breastplates, greaves, and gauntlets were available, but the prices began at one gold for even the smallest pieces.
Musicians were quite common, as there seemed to be a different one every block. Woodwinds and lutes abounded. Some would sing and some would just play, but they were all asking coin and would play songs at request. Modern music on unconventional instruments surprisingly didn’t change the rugged atmosphere of the busy village.
A steady stream of players jumped from stall to stall looking through crates of equipment for the best deal they could find. Many of them were no longer wearing newbie brown. The easiest way to do away with the newbie mantle was to just buy a new tunic of a different color. Cheapest too.