Glancing around, Rook took his time glancing at the shops. “Is there a store that would have mirrors nearby?”

  “Yes, there is in fact an Emporium,” Reina said.“It’s a place I frequented since I was young, but I don’t know if they’re going to have what you are looking for.”

  Two streets over, they found themselves at a store called Twinkling Bright Stagecraft. Inside the window, there were different jars of liquids, similar to jellies. Shelves of mirrors and hair accessories, as well as powders and dusts. Reina disappeared into a back room and came out moments later with a powder similar to his skin tone.

  “Hold still,” said the enhancer as she applied the powder under his collarbone. “Simply rub this on your skin for now.”

  “Thank you. I’m glad you were paying close attention to my body to match my skin tone,” Rook said with a chuckle.

  Reina flushed. “This is what I get for trying to help someone who calls themselves Ben Dover.” She began storming down the street.

  “Wait, so you did get the joke then?” Rook asked, following close behind.

  “It would be best to go to Brianna‘s and wash this grime free of us. Right now, we look suspicious, especially you.” Reina frowned at him like the word was on the tip of her tongue. “You look very similar to a vagrant asking for money. Like a street urchin waiting for bread to drop. Like a-”

  “I get it. I look like a hobo. I’m in the Military, and when we’re training, we get filthy. Hell, we live out of heavy bags we carry, sleep out of bags, and eat out of bags. What’s new?” Rook took his turn now. “You look like a potato that was placed in a wool sock and has been baking in the sun for the summer.” He gave her a satisfied grin.

  Reina broke into a fit of laughter. She would definitely cut it in the unit. As they walked, Reina stopped at a fountain held in the middle of a large circular courtyard.

  “King Ollar the First,” she gazed reverently at the statue. “While I was studying in the historical society, I read he killed one of the guardians.”

  “Guardians?” Rook asked.

  “Guarding the four corners of the world, King Ollar killed the giant Nazrog, the shadow master.” She looked to the west of the courtyard. “If you keep going this way, you’ll hit the crafting district, tradesman, and the builders’ guild.” She faced to the north. “Healing quarter is just ahead in the northern quarter of the city. It’s a good place to find potions and healers. You saw behind us in the east, there are more shops and merchants than you can ever want.”

  Rook nodded thoughtfully, as if he wasn’t still thinking about a giant with beetles. “Sure, what’s to the south?”

  “The docks of Ollar Bay.”

  She brought him further into the city, bringing him up to speed on the lineage of Kings before the current lord, King Ollar the fourth. They passed a stall with sweet-smelling kabobs.

  “Maldoon cuisine. They live by the ocean and export these sand deer each week.”

  She continued a one-sided conversation while he was busy eyeing the different kinds of foods in the stalls they passed, which he vowed to try. He was hungry, not because she was explaining in detail the sweet ice cream at the stall beside them, his watering mouth or his grumbling stomach. The narrator said it in his head every two minutes like an annoying pop-up on an old Windows operating system. Kids lined this stall, and they didn’t have the time to wait. They gave the man a silver, and he handed them a waffle bowl with an elephant-sized scoop of the stuff. He counted nearly thirty more alleyways. The landscape of the city shifted; the merchant district where they came from, with richly dressed shoppers and fancy shops, was gone. Now lining the streets were what Rook liked to call an average person’s area. This is the kind of place he felt comfortable in, not too crime-ridden that he could tell, and without the high society aspect.

  “Is this it?” Rook asked, looking at the stairs leading up to a wooden longhouse.

  “Yes, when we get in there, we should sit down and wait to speak to Brianna. And Rook, please don’t talk to anyone.” Reina chuckled.

  With a cautionary glance around, he frowned. The place didn’t smell like any trash, even though he saw piles in some of the alleyways, spilling from barrels. “Why can’t I smell any of the garbage, Reina?” Rook asked, hoping he didn’t catch a cold in the Woods of Sorrow.

  “Rune smiths,” she answered

  Fatigue hit him like a freight train. He hadn’t slept since waking up in that forest. If he had a smart watch, he had to guess he walked, traversed, and ran for his life at least 20 miles. Now, after walking nearly thirty alleyways, they walked up the stairs of Brianna‘s inn. It was a long wooden house with a high roof, gray smoke billowing from a chimney. Rook appreciated the architecture because it stood out as one of the few two-story buildings in the area.

  There was a sign on the door itself with a fat cartoon-style Ogre holding a bottle in his right hand and two X’s on his eyes. It said Stumbling Ogre. This picture matches half of my platoon. Wait, I can read it.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Why is this sign written in English, Reina?” Rook asked.

  “It’s written in the common tongue. It’s what we speak, read, and write in. I was surprised you spoke it when we first met.”

  “Tell me, are there twenty-six letters in the language, and do you learn them through the A-B-C tune?”

  “Yes. How did you know?” Reina trailed off.

  “I’m certain that your language was influenced by one of my kind,” Rook said.

  Reina reached for the door.

  “Allow me.” Rook squeezed the metal latch and pushed the door open on squeaking hinges.

  Reina gave him a slight bow and walked inside. What could he do? He was a sucker for chivalry. The Stumbling Ogre must have had an expansion rune because, though smaller on the outside, it was much bigger inside. He sucked in a breath, looking in the tavern fresh out of any RPG game. There must have been at least fifty people in there, fifty people’s worth of noise. The place was lit and warm enough to create a pleasant ambiance.

  “This whole city is runed,” Rook said, stunned at the expansive tavern inside the wooden doors.

  “Yes, it’s hard work powering them all. Let’s go in, I’m hungry.”

  “Right.” Relief washed over him, everyone inside was having a good time. “Not a goblin, boar, or crab in sight.”

  Reina smiled and shook her head. “There will be no Infernal here, and the Sunset Crab’s currency is not accepted in Ollar.”

  Rook chuckled. “That’s it. Where do you get your humor from? Roran is a great, but not exactly the one you call when you need a good laugh,” Rook said. He liked her; she was turning out to be a great friend.

  “My mother, she was something, I’m told.”

  Rook felt like he had just stepped into a sensitive subject. The topic of his mother always sent him into a sour mood.

  “When did you lose her?”

  “Young enough not to miss her.” Reina walked into the tavern.

  He swept his gaze across the room. There were long, circular tables and booths against three of the walls. Against the wall opposite the entrance, there was a bar the length of the expansive room with multiple frenzied bartenders catering to multiple customers. A group gathered around a game of Dwarves, humans, and halflings throwing axes at a dartboard. Strangely enough, the halflings were winning as far as he could tell. He was once again dumbfounded. It was beautiful, from the rough wood planks that shifted with his footsteps to the lively music playing from the lute, where a bard-like person played in the corner. The wall on the far side had adventuring types gathered around a board with hundreds of pieces of paper. Some cheered, others argued for specific papers, playing tug of war until the paper tore.

  “Settle down, mongrels!” A man’s voice came from the bar area. “Keep it up, I’ll throw your sorry asses out.”

  “Just have a seat anywhere. Get in where you fit in!” A woman’s voice rang out over the noise within the tavern.

  The cacophony lowered near where they stood. Many of the rough-looking patrons paused, regarding them with contempt. They’re looking at me like I have a dick growing from my forehead. Rook felt his face burn, like he should say something.

  “Okay, thank you!” Reina called back, leading him towards a booth.

  That bar woman had one hell of a commanding voice.

  “Why were they staring at us?” Rook asked.

  “My guess is because I’m a Jax, or because you are dressed like you’re a night walker."

  “A what?”

  Reina blinked at him, with a deer in the headlights look. “My last name is Jax., Reina Jax.”

  Rook rubbed his temple with the heel of his palm. “A nightwalker, what’s a nightwalker?”

  “Bloodsucking shape shifters. They can turn into birds, bats, and other critters. They use their shifting magic to get close and feed on adventurers in their sleep. When they get really powerful, they become ancient versions of themselves. I've heard that even Gold ranked adventurers have trouble killing a squad of them.”

  So a vampire. He left it alone; there were too many things about this world he didn’t understand, and he already overloaded his remaining brain cells with information. He sat on the wooden booth, letting his tired bones sink in. There were menus on the table written in glowing orange English or common. Some words were bolded and others were in small script. With a swipe of his finger, they shimmered for a moment before instantly changing into a different set of items. This is the coolest fucking menu I’ve ever seen.

  The booth had everything a patron would need and anything else you might find at a normal restaurant on Earth. Except that the silverware was made of fine wood, and the menu itself was glowing magically.

  Rook continually watched in amazement as it changed pages. There were so many items, and he felt his mind swim. The remaining brain cells he had were working overtime to process everything.

  “Wobax on Finbread, Mincer, and Caregon.” Rook sat back into the cushion and rubbed at his eyes. “Half of this sounds like cleaning products.”

  “Wobax is similar to boar meat. Mincer is a hearty stew of root vegetables and spices. Caregon is a fruit similar to meat, for those who cannot partake.” Reina gave him a smile. “All of these items are Gnomish.”

  Rook nodded and looked back at the menu. It changed this time to a page, and wouldn’t shift no matter how many times he swiped his finger. An advertisement?

  “Circuits, do you have what it takes?” He read and then looked up at her. “You’ve mentioned the circuits before, haven’t you?”

  Reina pressed the corner of the menu, and it paused. “Yes, when we spoke of the battlemages.”

  Rook must have had that confused look on his face, because Reina began to explain.

  “The Circuits is an arena-style fighting championship. It takes place on an island in the Hellridge Archipelago. Most of these fighters are battlemages and warriors; there are others I hear with obscure classes.” She pointed to the menu.

  “That sounds incredibly brutal.”

  “Yes, it can be.” She pointed at the menu. “The next tournament is happening later this year. The Bloodstone Elves put these pages in the menus to advertise. They are the only ones legally allowed to bet on the fighters. And they do so, treating the fighters like animals.”

  He thought about it. “On second thought, having gladiatorial bouts is kinda fucked up, to be honest.”

  She nodded. “Luckily, there are referees who stop the bouts upon debilitating injury or death.”

  “The healers can fix most any wound, even reviving a person if quick enough.”

  “That would be useful to have.” Rook frowned at the table. “I can’t imagine questing to each continent trying to find the Sacred Cipher without a healer.”

  “You may as well get acquainted with the idea. Healers are only available through the guild and by contract. You will never have the money to buy one.” Reina gave him an embarrassed look.

  “No, please, it’s fine. I appreciate tough love.”

  “Healers are taken to the guilds once they’re identified at birth. Their parents are given compensation, but lose their child. It is considered illegal to keep a child hidden, especially if they are of the healing class.” She looked sad. “It’s as you say, fucked up.” She pressed the corner, and the menu continued changing.

  This beautiful place’s ugly side is showing. Rook stopped the menu when it reached the Gnomish page. “I guess I’ll have the Wobax.”