The carriage passes and they catch up to the Thulean, who carries herself with the serene self-assurance of the grandest tiger in the jungle.
It troubles Ryuk that they so easily overcame the woman; even at low levels, Thuleans are notoriously skilled combatants and are usually much stronger than the average player.
Something wasn’t right; Thuleans are a snooty and exclusionary group. A player can’t select a Thulean avatar; there aren’t any. The Thuleans all either NPCs or Reborn Player Characters, and just being an RPC doesn’t automatically get you in either – there’s an interview and a waiting list of up to year, last time Ryuk checked.
They think they’re the one per cent; most everybody else thinks they’re an over-rated bunch of scaly assholes. Even so, there are plenty of RPCs who are simply marking time until a new Thulean avatar becomes available. Most of them hang out in Valhalla, but they can be anywhere, really.
Their erstwhile foe leads them to a rose-red, horseshoe-shaped love hotel. Softly glowing love seats and topiary rose bushes border a decorative path that cuts through its center. An intricately carved, sled-shaped sign proclaims the hotel to be The Rosebud.
“Why are we here?” FeeTwix inquires.
“This is where I’m staying.”
Another message from FeeTwix appears on Ryuk’s vision pane.
FeeTwix: This is great! A big, strapping Thulean babe brought us to a love hotel! My fans are going insane!
Ryuk: I guess it does look a little strange …
She stops at the front door and turns to them. “Well? Are you two going to stand outside and look stupid, or are you going to come in … and look stupid?”
“You know this is like … um … a love hotel, right?” Ryuk asks.
She sighs, puts fists on hips and shakes her head. “Yes. Yes, I know this is like … um … a love hotel. This is Sotla; there are no inns here, just love hotels, and at least this one has a fairly decent restaurant.”
The lobby of the love hotel reeks of ambiance. It’s dimly lit and features dark red furniture and a clerestory of heart-shaped windows.
The desk clerk doesn’t bat an eye at the thin, seven foot tall Thulean swordswoman with two young, handsome-ish guys in tow. This is probably the second tamest thing he’s seen all day; he merely nods at the trio and returns to his leather bound copy of Lady Chatterley’s Lover.
“The restaurant is this way.” The Thulean leads the two down a small flight of stairs and into a narrow corridor.
A hostess in a black and white dress with mouton sleeves and hoop skirt curtsies in greeting and launches into her well-rehearsed spieclass="underline" “Welcome young lovers! For your dining and amative enjoyment this evening, we have available La Room de Boom-Boom, La chambre de votre premier amour, La chambre de l'amour sans fin, and La salle d'une liaison!” She gives Ryuk a knowing wink. “May I suggest La Room de Boom-Boom? It is … ” Eyes wide, she places her hands over her mouth and giggles.
“It’s what?” FeeTwix asks.
She throws her hands out. “Scandaleux!”
“Enough,” the Thulean female narrows her eyes on the hostess. “Which room is most comfortable for three?”
“Pour trois?” She speaks to herself in French for a moment.
“What’s she saying?” Ryuk asks FeeTwix.
More importantly, why aren’t things being translated in real-time? Everyone in Tritania shares a common tongue, which is whatever language they speak natively. The only language not translated in real-time is Thulean, and there are apps and magical devices for that. In actuality, when Ryuk speaks to FeeTwix, he speaks in Japanese, which is then translated into Swedish. When FeeTwix replies in Swedish, it’s immediately translated to Japanese.
“She’s speaking nonsense, otherwise.” FeeTwix smiles briskly at the hostess. “We will take the Amor Sans Fin Chambre.”
“Magnifique!” Careful of her hoop skirt, the hostess turns to the long corridor. “Madame, Messieurs, follow me if you please.” She chuckles to herself as she leads them down the long corridor. She arrives at a waist-high door and crouches. Her key ring jingles as she searches for the right key, opens the door and duck-walks through, which is no mean feat in a hoop skirt.
“Why is the door so short?” asks Ryuk.
FeeTwix shrugs. “I think it may be some sort of architectural commentary on endless love or something. That’s my guess, anyway.” He follows their hostess’ example, as does Ryuk. The Thulean crouches but is still too tall; instead, she drops to her knees and crawls in.
They’re greeted by the soothing sound of gently tinkling water; the room features an artfully constructed water wall that that feeds into a heated pool. A metal towel rack with big, fluffy pink towels sits within convenient reach.
The hostess twitches her nose and an ornately carved hearts, flowers, and cigar-smoking cupids with hammer and sickle sashes-themed wooden table and three well-upholstered stools appear.
“It’s so romantic, is it not?” She flutters her hand over her heart and pretends to swoon. “Oh! Allow me to fetch some complimentary appetizers before I get ahead of myself. Please, be seated and make yourselves comfortable.”
She curtsies, backs away from them, and unerringly duck-walks backward through the child-sized entrance, hoop skirt and all.
Their warrior woman associate gives them a thin and humorless smile.
“We should start with names. You can call me Zaena.”
“Ryuk.”
“FeeTwix,” he says as his eyes morph blue.
“Good, Ryuk the Ballistics Mage and FeeTwix the Berserker Mystic.” Her expression remains carefully neutral as she continues, “You wish to know why I attacked you.”
“We can start there.” FeeTwix nods, brings his gloved hands onto the table and laces his fingers together.
“You attacked me first.”
FeeTwix raises an eyebrow. “I think you have us confused with some other players.”
She ruffles her hair with one long-fingered hand. “You weren’t there, but he was,” she indicates Ryuk with the DisNike two-finger point. “Earlier today, a powerful Ballistics Mage – who looks just like you – and some sell-sword scum attacked me.”
“Me? That’s impossible.”
“Do you know where Jatla is?” she asks.
“I seriously wish I didn’t. Our guildhall is there.”
“It was near there, in the piney forest that separates Jatla from the rest of the continent.”
“Well, it wasn’t us,” FeeTwix assures her.
“Yes, I know that now, especially after the crap fight you put up.”
FeeTwix shakes his head in disbelief. “You realize we beat you back there, right?”
She holds her chin high. “No. I let you win.”
“Revisionist history,” FeeTwix coughs into his hand.
“Bonjour!” The hostess returns with a tray of macaroons and tiny squares of opera cake. She giggles as she places them on the table and quickly promises to return with beverages.
Zaena uses one of her ghost limbs to reach for a square of cake. To FeeTwix and Ryuk, it looks like the cake is magically floating in the air. Ryuk selects a macaroon and downs it in one bite. A feeling of warmth and euphoria spreads through him.
What’s in these pastries? He looks at them again and sees that each pastry has the faintest of faint yellow outlines.
Skill level up!
Skilclass="underline" Magic Eye
Level Two: A colored glow indicates that magical properties are present. Higher levels allow for more detail and access to the Wikipedia of arcane knowledge. A red outline signals that a hidden enemy is near. Higher levels allow for more detail and access to the wiktionary of arcane knowledge. A red outline signals that a hidden enemy is near. A yellow outline signals that an object is enchanted.