|Attributes: +4 Appearance
|Description: This tunic is made of twice layered cotton designed to look fashionable. The inner layer is soft and moves to prevent chaffing.
|Name: Gentry Traveler’s Pantaloons
|Item Type: Armor - Cloth
|Durability: 25/25
|Armor Rating: 2
|Attributes: +4 Appearance
|Description: This pair of pants is made of twice layered cotton, designed to look fashionable. The thigh regions have been reinforced with leather to provide a more comfortable experience while on horseback.
|Name: Treated Traveler’s Boots
|Item Type: Armor - Leather
|Durability: 72/75
|Armor Rating: 4
|Attributes: Water Resistant
|Description: These boots have been treated to resist the effects of rain.
|Name: Treated Traveler’s Cloak
|Item Type: Armor - Cloth
|Durability: 35/35
|Armor Rating: 0
|Attributes: Water Resistant, Cold Resistant
|Description: Traveler’s cloaks are slightly larger than most cloaks to allow space for a backpack to rest beneath them. This cloak has been treated to resist the effects of rain. The cloak may be pulled around its wearer to provide a measure of respite from the cold.
|Name: Chain Mesh Underlay
|Item Type: Armor Component - Chain
|Durability: 80/80
|Armor Rating: 7
|Attributes: None
|Description: This thin and light weight chain meshing is designed to be sewn into cloth or leather armor. It cannot be practically worn on its own.
Dakkon was gleeful. He was just about to buy new clothes and was certain he wouldn’t have been able to afford anything nearly this nice. What’s more, some of the clothes even affected his appearance, which he hoped would help him garner the favor of the thermomancer trainer he wanted to visit next. There was even a chainmail underlay in the batch. Dakkon assumed he’d need to have it sewn into his cloak or on top of an undershirt. He didn’t like the sound of the chaffing that the tunic so graciously forewarned him about.
“And now… the best for last…” Dakkon trailed of, building up his own sense of anticipation. “Inspect!”
|Name: Dark Stone Dagger
|Item Type: Weapon - Piercing/Slashing
|Durability: ?
|Damage: ?
|Attributes: ?
|Description: The dagger is made of dark stone that remains cool to the touch, regardless of environment. To determine more you must increase your proficiency in Identification, or visit an appraiser.
|Name: Dark Stone Scabbard
|Item Type: Scabbard - Small
|Durability: ?
|Attributes: ?
|Description: The scabbard is made of dark stone that remains cool to the touch, regardless of environment. To determine more you must increase your proficiency in Identification, or visit an appraiser.
“Pity,” Dakkon thought. It was a shame he wouldn’t be able to find out just how good the dagger was yet, but the state of Dakkon’s excitement was largely unperturbed. He was positively mirthful, and smiled broadly as he put away his newfound treasures in his large canvas bag.
Dakkon walked down the street, smiling merrily, and even complimenting strangers as he passed them, much to their chagrin as they denied to their acquaintances any affiliation with the walking disaster that Dakkon appeared to be. Dakkon made his way to one side of the river that flowed through Correndin, underneath Gadwick Bridge, and after ensuring there were no prying eyes to take offense, stripped down by simply dragging the rags out of his inventory and cleansed himself in the cold river water.
After washing up, Dakkon hopped out of the water, tousled his hair to shake out the excess water, and dried off using his new cloak before outfitting himself in his new gear. He admired the little avatar of himself in his inventory window, pleased by the change in wardrobe. Next, he dumped the canteens out of his old bag of horrors, rinsed their exteriors, and placed them in his new rucksack.
“I’m out of food in game, and I’m probably hungry in the real world,” Dakkon considered. There wasn’t a much better stopping point that he could hope for, and logging out for an hour and a half would allow Dakkon to treat himself to a celebratory lunch. The first day was a success—after a fashion, anyway.
C
HAPTER 5:
R
EALITY
C
HECK
Dakkon thought to himself, “Logout!”
Instead of the disimpassioned female voice he had come to expect, a window explaining the logout procedure popped up:
|This is your first time initiating the logout sequence. Please take note:
|To safely logout, a player must be removed from combat for a minimum of 30 seconds.
|You may logout immediately by invoking the command ‘Logout Immediately.’
|Logging out immediately will leave your character vulnerable to attack for five minutes.
|Exiting in this manner will be a less pleasant experience.
|Are you sure you’d like to logout?
|( Yes ) ( No )
Dakkon selected ‘Yes’ and the world began to fall away from him piece by piece. The scene—bridge, buildings, water, and stones—left his vision as though plucked away like individual pieces from a chess board. A light mist covered his vision and the whole world went black.
Corbin felt himself spinning like a slowly roasting lamb on a spit and could vaguely smell the lingering fragrance of orange and ammonia. After another two revolutions, the pod faced him upward and erected Corbin into an upright, standing posture. The air-filled bags holding him stationary deflated in seconds, and the door to the pod slid free. Corbin was a dam about to burst, and scrambled out of his pod in a mad, albeit short, dash to his restroom.
“That seems rather dangerous,” Corbin thought to himself. “Maybe I’ll have to look into those in-and-out tubes…” Shuddering at the thought, he decided that, for now, he’d simply refrain from drinking an excess of liquids before entering the pod.
It was a little after noon and Corbin wasn’t particularly hungry, but he knew that he was low on food supplies and would need to restock. Maybe by the time they arrived, he’d have regained his appetite.
“Pixie!” Corbin spoke the voice activation command for his brand of AugSys, an augmented reality computer system with a built in AI assistant that was as commonplace in homes today as televisions were at the turn of the century.
A tiny winged simulation of a woman wiggled its way out from between the cushions of Corbin’s sofa. “Would you like me to schedule a cleaning service?” The newly freed hologram inquired.
Corbin sighed. “No thanks.” He walked over to the sofa and sat down on the cushion beside the little faerie who was launched, as if by his comparably large mass, up and over onto the armrest opposite where he was seated.