The thought cheered him up by a measure. Dakkon picked himself up and strolled out of the alley.
C
HAPTER 4:
T
YPICAL
The events of his first day had not, so far, left Dakkon with a lot. What it did leave him was hungry. Not particularly wanting to chow down out in the street, and since overhearing some banter might give him a clue on how he should proceed, he headed back to the barely standing Brass Badger Inn and pushed in the door. Inside, the atmosphere was better than he had anticipated. Better by far. The bar interior felt warm and refreshing. It was lively with people having drinks after work. Dakkon seated himself on a table that was a bit out of the barmaid’s way, where he pulled out one of his two canteens and some Traveler’s Tack. After taking a bite, Dakkon knew the tack was undoubtedly the blandest and driest thing he’d ever tasted. While trying to chew the tack all of the moisture in his mouth forsook him, and he drank from the canteen greedily.
*Bhnnn*
[You are satiated.]
[HP/EP/MP will restore itself over time.]
[You are resting in a bar.]
[Restoration speed is increased.]
“So, if I don’t eat, I don’t regenerate,” Dakkon appraised the situation. “Fair enough.”
The barmaid, who had been busily serving other patrons, made her way over to Dakkon.
“Hello there, honey,” she said. “What can I get for you?” The barmaid was stunning to the point that she seemed out of place. She was tall, strong—but not thick—willowy, with blue eyes, swoopy blonde hair…
“And she’s stacked,” Dakkon said aloud while nodding. When he realized his mistake, he stiffened and began to closely inspect the surface of the table.
“Hah! Don’t worry yourself about it. That’s practically gentlemanly compared to the usual bunch,” the barmaid said as she flicked her hair towards her regular patrons. “Now, what will it be, Mr. Gentleman?”
“A job, preferably.” Dakkon sighed and looked up from what he had determined was definitely a table. “I can’t seem to find anyone willing to give me a copper in this town.”
“Hmm. Well, then, you should’ve come here sooner,” the barmaid said with a heartwarming smile. “And you should’ve said so before eating that oversized cracker. If you agree to do a job for me mam then I’ll go ahead and give you a bowl of stew, if you’d like. She’ll pay you on top of that of course.”
Stew sounded pleasant compared to the dry tack he’d been eating. Dakkon eagerly nodded his head.
[You have accepted the quest: Of Mice and Mam]
The stew that the barmaid brought for Dakkon turned out to be tasty, if a bit tough. After he finished eating another new message appeared.
*Bhnnn*
[You are well fed.]
[HP/EP/MP will be restored at double the rate.]
[You are resting in a bar.]
[Restoration speed is increased.]
Now full and reinvigorated, Dakkon was directed back into the kitchen to meet the buxom barmaid’s mam. Upon entering the kitchen, he noticed a large woman with dirty gray, straw-like hair bent away from him, in a nook, chopping away at something vigorously.
*Wham* The cleaver fell. Dakkon approached the woman and a spattering of something wet hit the walls of the nook. Just as he was about to clear his throat to catch the round woman’s attention, she turned around with cleaver raised.
“What the crock are you doing here?” The old woman croaked with a red-spattered, boil-covered face that threatened to haunt his nightmares.
The abrupt spin of the large woman caused a few droplets of thick liquid to launch from the cleaver in her hand and spatter Dakkon, landing on his face and shirt. Disgusted, but trying to keep his cool, he wiped away at the viscous liquid and said, “Your daughter said you could use some help.”
“You’re here at a good time. There are rodents in the basement. I need you to go down and cull 10 of them,” the rotund woman said.
“A classic.” Dakkon managed a smile. Rats in the basement was one of those new-adventurer quests that had been a sort of running joke among fantasy role-playing games for about as long as the games had been around. “I’d be glad to help you out.”
The woman eyed Dakkon appraisingly. “And how do you figure you’ll manage that? By punching and stomping on them?”
Dakkon realized she had a point. Rats scurrying away from him in full flight would probably be near impossible to catch bare-handed. The idea of killing them one vicious stomp after another didn’t really inspire him either.
“Bah. There’s nothing for it, then,” the ogrish woman said as she held her dripping cleaver out for Dakkon to grab. “Take this, kill 10 rats, and bring everything back to me.”
Dakkon reached a hand out, warily, and grabbed the slick handle of the cleaver. The sensations one could feel in Chronicle were impeccable. His spine tingled with apprehension. When he held the cleaver in his own, now soiled, hands he thought to ask, “Why only 10? If you’ve got a rat problem, and I’m heading down there anyways, how about I just clean out the place?”
“No, no. That’s too much. Just kill 10 and bring them to me,” the barkeep’s mother said quickly. “The entrance to the basement is right through that door. Take that lamp on the table.”
“Fair enough,” Dakkon said, picking up the lamp and fiddling with it until it was alight.
Just as Dakkon took his first step downwards into the dimly lit basement, the old woman called out after him, “Remember! Only 10!”
Half-way down the steps, Dakkon looked at the cleaver in his hand and thought, “Inspect!”
|Name: Squeak Harvest
|Item Type: Cleaver
|Damage Type: Chopping
|Durability: 16/50
|Damage: 5
|Attributes: +15 Damage Against Rodents.
|Description: The right tool for killing rodents.
“… she was using this to prepare food?” Dakkon’s stomach lurched, but he continued walking down the steps. The sounds of scampering and squeaking from ahead and below focused him on his immediate objective and helped him shake the thought that his recent meal may have attained its unusual consistency from rodent meat.
“When I get down there, how am I going to corner them?” This prospect worried him. He certainly didn’t want to spend hours in a cellar hunting pests. At the bottom of the stairs, he set to the problem, “If I can corral them someho—”
Half a dozen rats descended upon him from above, like a curtain of furry claws and teeth. “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!” Dakkon let out a shriek unbefitting of a grown man. His dignity would not be tarnished, at least, because the patrons upstairs would be unable to connect his high-pitched wail with anyone of even mild masculinity.
[Rat has scratched you for 2 damage. Remaining HP 48/50]
[Rat has scratched you for 2 damage. Remaining HP 46/50]
[Rat has bitten you for 3 damage. Remaining HP 41/50]
[Rat has bitten you for 3 damage. Remaining HP 38/50]